Endless Night
by InfinityStar
Summary: A sudden loss overshadows Goren's preparations to cope with the death of another loved one. Continuation of the Choices AU.
1. A Lucky Man

_**Watching a peaceful death of a human being reminds us of a falling star; one of a million lights in a vast sky that flares up for a brief moment only to disappear into the endless night forever. ~Elisabeth Kübler-Ross**_

* * *

Mike Logan was nervous as he wiped the steam off the mirror in the main bathroom at the Goren's Ozone Park home. He'd finished shaving and was half dressed. After combing his hair, he pulled on his shirt, deciding to ditch the tie. This was Carolyn they were having dinner with, not the Queen of England.

He walked down the upstairs hall to Tommy's bedroom. Alex told him he could keep some clothes in the extra dresser in Tommy's room, and they'd set up a twin-sized bed for him beside the window, opposite the little boy's toddler bed. Although Harry's room was a little bigger, the timid child would never sleep with Mike in the room. Tom, on the other hand, adored him, and he often found the little boy curled up with him in the bed when he woke in the morning. His presence in Tom's room only helped solidify the idea in the little guy's head that Uncle Mike was his.

He ended up in Tom's room because Alex got tired of seeing him on the couch, and Bobby refused to make him leave. They argued about it and, hearing part of the argument, he felt bad about causing any trouble between them, so he decided to find another place to crash. It was a difficult decision because Carolyn could make things difficult for him regarding visitation. While he was staying with Bobby and Alex, she had no argument. But he'd figure something out. It wasn't worth causing a problem between Bobby and his wife.

When he brought the matter up to Bobby, he was surprised to find it had been worked out. Bobby had a contractor friend who offered to put on an addition over the garage for cost, and they took him up on the offer. Alex wanted a guest room anyway, and the addition would add two rooms to the upstairs. One of those rooms, Bobby told him, was his for as long as he needed, or wanted, it. Mike had done the only honorable thing: he insisted on helping to pay for it. Bobby assured him that he'd planned to add the extra rooms anyway, though he'd wanted it to be a surprise for his wife, not a bargaining chip to end an argument.

Mike had tried talking things over with Carolyn a few weeks earlier, but the discussion fell apart when Sean started getting fussy. Carolyn left without resolving anything. Mike was willing to give it one more try. He honestly cared about Carolyn and he loved his son. If they could work through their problems, he was all for it.

He had been trying to get Sean for visitation for weeks, but Carolyn stubbornly insisted he "come home" to see his son, refusing to allow him to take Sean anywhere without her. It was getting very old. Tonight, though, they were going to have it out once and for all. The children—all of them—were going to stay with Reggie and Aaron for the evening, and Bobby and Alex would referee, if necessary.

Carolyn had never left Sean alone with anyone before, not even with him—not for an entire evening, and part of him resented her for trusting Alex's sister with their son more than she trusted him. Another part of him, though, hoped it was a sign that she wanted to work things out. At the end of the evening, he had a feeling he would either be going back to the apartment he'd called home for the last decade or he would be moving his things out.

He went downstairs, surprised by how quiet it was. Bobby was on the couch, alone. "Where are the troops?" Mike asked.

"Outside playing with Zeus. Alex is getting Molly dressed."

"She really has fun dressing up that kid."

Bobby nodded. "Things were so chaotic for her when Maggie was a baby, she didn't really have as much of a chance to enjoy everything that's supposed to come with having a baby girl. She blames us because Maggie can be such a tomboy, and she wants Molly to be more of a girly-girl."

"Humpf," Mike grunted as he sat beside Bobby. "Do you see that happening?"

Bobby shrugged. "Honestly? I see Molly being able to take any kid in the neighborhood, whether she's wearing a dress or not."

Mike nodded. "Me, too. That kid is more like her mother than any of 'em. She's gonna come home with more black eyes than both of her brothers combined." He was quiet for a moment, then he said, "Thanks for doing this for me, Bobby."

"Doing what?"

"Coming along to referee. Alex is on Carolyn's side, I'm sure, and I really don't feel like being ganged up on."

Bobby smiled. "Don't be so sure about Alex. She's furious with Carolyn for what she's been doing, and even more angry that Carolyn won't listen to her."

That revelation caught Mike by surprise. "Really? She's not blaming this all on me?"

"Why would she? You haven't done anything wrong. This isn't a war between the sexes, Mike. Carolyn is not being fair to you. Sean is your son, too. Alex gives you a lot of credit for being willing to try to work it out and not tossing in the towel."

"Does she really think I'd give up on my son?"

"I didn't get too deep in the conversation with her. It was enough for me that she saw your side of it. But I don't think she ever thought you would give up on Sean. I think she's impressed that you aren't giving up on your relationship with Carolyn."

Mike sighed heavily. "I've done everything I could think to do to make her happy, and it hasn't worked. She's been seeing a therapist for two months now, and it hasn't done any good. She still won't let Sean out of her sight. I want to know how you managed to get her to agree to let Sean stay with Reggie for an entire evening when she doesn't like to leave him alone in the next room with me."

"That was Alex's doing. I have no idea how she did it."

"You didn't ask?"

Bobby grinned. "She won't tell me, and I let it go. I'm learning."

Mike laughed. "It's about time."

They both turned as Alex came into the room with Molly. Bobby's face lit up as she placed the baby in his lap and gave him a kiss. She looked at Mike with a critical eye. "No tie?"

"Why? She's seen me in less."

Alex rolled her eyes, then looked at her husband. "Talk to him. I'm going to take the kids over to Reggie's and then I'll be back to pick you up."

Bobby bounced the baby lightly on his knee and watched Alex open the back door to call the children inside. "Tell Daddy and Uncle Mike goodbye and get in the car," she said.

Maggie and Tom ran across the room into arms that were always ready for them. Harry scrambled along behind them until he realized where they were going and he skidded to an abrupt halt. After a few seconds of hesitation, he continued forward more sedately.

Bobby knew not to push the boy to exceed his comfort level. He was coming along. His therapist was excited with his progress. Bobby was more reserved, but he continued to offer consistent affection without being overbearing, and Harry was beginning to respond to him.

The boy had already overcome his uncertainty with Alex, but his experience with his mother had been mostly positive. The negative experiences of his life revolved almost exclusively around men, and he kept Bobby and Mike at arms' length. His hesitation was decreasing, though, and his fear was almost gone. Mostly, he called Bobby 'sir,' but sometimes, at the end of the day, he got caught up in the excitement of the other children and called him 'Daddy.' Bobby never made a big deal of it. He took things in stride and continued to treat Harry the same way he did the other children. Harry felt like a member of the family and he was slowly warming to the idea of having a father who loved him.

Maggie climbed up onto her father's lap beside Molly as Tommy launched himself at Mike. Pushing herself up to reach her father's cheek, Maggie kissed him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Always, Bobby felt infinitely better receiving any form of affection from his oldest child, the one to whom he had the closest bond.

In imitation of her big sister, eight-month-old Molly grabbed Bobby's shirt and pulled herself up to place a wet, open-mouthed baby kiss on his other cheek. Bobby kissed both daughters. As Alex took Molly from his lap, she gently ran her fingers around his ear. He smiled and placed a hand on her hip.

Maggie smiled at the gesture of affection that passed between her parents, leaning up once more to whisper in his ear, "I love you, Daddy."

He patted her back gently. "I love you, too, mouse," he answered.

She climbed down and trotted over to Mike, hugging him and kissing his cheek, too. Uncle Mike had always been special to her simply because he was so close to her father. He had always been a vital part of her life, well-loved and cherished.

"C'mon, Zeus," she called to the shepherd puppy who had jumped up onto the couch between the two men.

The puppy clumsily launched himself off the couch, scrambling after her. They had been inseparable all summer long. Tommy bounced across the couch to his father, hugging his neck. "Bye, dada!"

"Have fun, buddy," Bobby answered, kissing his son's cheek.

Tom scrambled down to the floor and ran after his sister. Harry stayed on the far side of the coffee table for a minute before he approached the two men. Stopping near Bobby's knee, he raised his hand and stretched up to touch his cheek.

Bobby smiled at the timid boy. "Before you go, Harry," he said gently. "I have a question for you."

Harry looked at him with interest. Whenever Bobby had something to say just to him, it was special and sometimes wonderful. He waited patiently. Bobby held out his hand, waiting until Harry placed his small hand on his palm. "What day is today?" Bobby asked.

Harry thought for a moment. "Sattaday," he answered. "Tomorrow is church with Grampa."

Bobby nodded. "That's right. Do you know what today's date is?"

Harry scrunched his face in concentration before he shook his head. A brief flash of fear hit Harry's eyes for not knowing the answer, and his hand trembled just a little against Bobby's palm, but he didn't pull away. "That's okay," Bobby reassured him. "How about the month?"

Another moment of thinking and Harry's face brightened. "Augus!"

"Very good, Harry." Bobby smiled at the pride on the little boy's face when he praised him for knowing the answer. "Today is the third," Bobby informed him. "Next Saturday is the tenth. Do you know what that is?"

Harry shook his head again, a little less unsure about not knowing the answer. Maggie's daddy had never once struck him, so maybe it really was okay that he didn't know the answers. He still thought of the big man as Maggie's daddy, although he had come to fully accept that Maggie's mommy was his new mommy, so he called her Mommy, too.

Bobby slowly closed his fingers around Harry's hand, holding it loosely so that Harry could pull away if he wanted to. He didn't. "August tenth is your birthday, and we're going to have a party for you, just like we did for Maggie when it was her birthday."

Harry's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Really."

"With cake, too?"

"Of course. Uncle Mike has a special job to find you the best birthday cake."

Harry looked at Mike, who nodded and winked at him. "The best one," he affirmed.

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, then, hesitantly, he asked, "And a present?"

Bobby nodded. "Maybe even more than one."

Harry couldn't imagine it. He had an idea of what a birthday was from Maggie's celebration, but he could not fathom such a thing for himself. Just for him. Softly, he whispered, "Maybe I can get a ball, so we can play kick outside in the backyard?"

The little guy seemed to be afraid he was asking for too much. Bobby smiled at him. "I think maybe we can manage that. We might even find a green one."

Harry's face lit up. From the front door, Alex called, "Harry? Come on. We have to get going."

Harry slid his hand from Bobby's, hesitated, then gave him an awkward hug. Quickly, he scrambled away, uncertain of the reaction he would receive for the unsolicited gesture.

"Nice job," Mike said softly as the front door banged closed. "For having such a fuck-up for a father, you turned out pretty damn well."

"So have you. Now go put on a tie."

When Mike opened his mouth to argue, Bobby shook his head. "It will go better for both of us if you just do it."

With a sigh, he conceded defeat. "Why do we let her rule our lives like she does?"

"Because giving in to her is a much better alternative and you know it."

Mike got up and started for the stairs, grumbling, "Just once, I'd really like to call her on it."

"Well, give me a heads' up when you decide to do it," Bobby replied. "I'll make arrangements to be somewhere else that night. But I promise I'll be at the funeral."

"I appreciate the back up."

"If it were anyone else, man, I'd be there, but I have to sleep with her."

Mike stopped on the stairs. "Good point. You're a braver man than I am."

"Not braver. Just smarter."

"Wise ass."

Bobby laughed and went into the kitchen. He poured himself a drink and leaned against the counter. His bad knee had begun to ache again, and he chose to self-medicate rather than risk being taken off the job again. If Alex knew, which he was fairly certain she did, she didn't say anything. She was a smart woman, but more than that, she loved him. Of that, he had no doubt, and he was a lucky man because of her.


	2. Dinner Confrontation

Mike came back downstairs wearing a red plaid tie. "There. I'm wearing a tie."

Standing by the sliding glass door that led to the backyard, Bobby turned and arched an eyebrow. "That's the tie you're going with?"

"It's a tie, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's a tie."

"Okay, then. I'm ready."

Bobby shook his head and went into the kitchen to set his glass in the sink. Mike followed him and stood in the doorway. "You okay?"

"What makes you ask?"

"That glass you put in the sink."

Bobby sighed softly. It had been a long time since he'd been able to hide anything from Mike. "My knee's been acting up, that's all."

"And you don't see the doctor because..."

"Because I don't want to be taken off duty again, that's why."

"Is it that bad?"

Bobby shrugged and gently pushed past Mike to go into the living room. Mike watched him as he walked. The limp was always there, though Bobby struggled to hide it. The pain, though, had gone away. "I thought it was doing good."

"It was."

"So what happened?"

Bobby frowned. "I'm not going to let something like a bum knee stop me from playing with my children," he snapped, almost inviting a challenge.

Mike knew better than to take the bait. Realization dawned as he remembered they'd been out in the yard a couple of nights before messing around with a soccer ball. Tom had kicked the ball to his father, who had been distracted and had to shift his position suddenly to intercept it. Now Mike realized what Bobby had tried so hard to hide by ending the game with a promise of ice cream. The kids had scrambled into the house, and Mike had gone after them, not realizing Bobby had hurt himself. Only now did he remember that Bobby had not come directly inside. The kids had taken their ice cream into the family room and moved on to another game when Bobby finally came into the house.

"I'm sorry," Mike said. "I didn't realize you got hurt..."

"Exactly. No apology needed. Now let it go."

"Does Alex know?"

"I don't know. Probably. I can never hide anything from her."

"She hasn't said anything?"

"No. She's probably waiting for me to say something."

Mike shook his head. "Then she'll rip into you for not telling her right away."

"No, she won't because I'm not going to say anything about it."

"Oh. That always ends well," Mike muttered sarcastically.

Ignoring him, Bobby sat heavily on the couch and propped up his leg on the coffee table. He trusted Mike. He knew he wouldn't say anything to Alex. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes, waiting for the whiskey to ease the pain away. He was fortunate that Alex liked to do the driving. His thoughts drifted as the dull throbbing began to ease...until he felt a sudden, cold weight on his aching joint. The pain eased away a little more, and he forced his eyes open.

Mike grinned at him, standing by the coffee table. A bag of frozen peas rested over Bobby's knee. After a moment, Bobby smiled at him. "Thanks, Mike."

"I do what I can."

A noise from the front of the house caught their attention, and Bobby tossed the peas to Mike, who trotted off to return them to the freezer. The front door opened as he returned to the living room. Alex joined them a few seconds later. "Okay, boys, are you ready...Is that the tie you're wearing?"

Mike looked down. "What? This is a perfectly good tie."

She stopped by the couch, shaking her head. Opening her mouth to say something, she fell silent when Bobby's hand slid along her waist and under her shirt. His fingers stroked her skin and she looked at him. "You told him to wear a tie. It's a tie," he said.

She let go of her irritation on a sigh and leaned down to kiss him. As his tongue lightly teased her lips, she could both taste and smell the scotch, and she wondered if he was nervous about the upcoming dinner. She allowed herself to linger for a moment before she withdrew. "Fine," she said, pushing her fingers lightly through Bobby's hair. "Wear that tie, if you must. I'll just count myself fortunate that Bobby doesn't own a tie that hideous."

Mike lifted the tie away from his shirt and looked down at it. "What's hideous about it?"

"Honestly, Mike. What suit does a plaid tie actually go with? And don't you dare say a plaid suit."

He laughed. "You'll be happy to know I don't own a plaid suit, and I think it goes just fine with this suit. Lennie always said my plaid ties were classy. Has Carolyn dropped Sean off at your sister's?"

Alex opened her mouth to say something about Briscoe, but she caught Bobby's eye and he shook his head. Mike was very sensitive about his late partner, especially of any perceived slight. The years had transformed Briscoe into a kind of legend in Mike's mind, and Bobby respected that. She let the tie matter drop and answered his question about Sean. "Not yet."

"Did you call her?"

"I tried but she didn't answer. She's probably on her way to drop him off."

"Keep telling yourself that. I'll bet you dinner for a week she's gonna show up with him, then offer some lame excuse for why she had to bring him."

Alex frowned, but she offered no argument. Mike was probably right, and she needed to figure out how she was going to deal with it when it happened.

* * *

The restaurant Alex had chosen was a quiet place that served good food, a nice restaurant they had taken the kids to for dinner on several occasions. The menu offered everything from pasta and enchiladas to steak and vegetarian dishes. They even had a few good international choices—lamb curry, gyros, and a surprisingly good stir fry dish with apples and raisins. The kids loved the egg rolls and the tacos, sometimes as part of the same meal.

They arrived before Carolyn did and were seated in a quiet corner. To start with, they ordered drinks—wine for Alex and scotch for both Bobby and Mike. Reaching out, she placed a light hand on Bobby's knee, looking at him with alarm at the heat she felt through the denim of his pants.

He looked at her, gently grabbing her hand under the table before she withdrew it from his knee. His thumb stroked hers and his eyes told her he was okay. With a brief nod, she let it go, but he knew she would bring it up later.

Mike had not missed the exchange and he knew that if she had been unaware of Bobby's reinjured knee, she wasn't any more. Bobby looked up at him, and he offered a brief grin of encouragement. It would be okay. It always was...well, almost always.

When the waitress came back for their food order, Alex explained that they were waiting for one more person, and Bobby ordered another scotch. Quietly, Alex asked, "How is Denise doing?"

Bobby tensed, which he usually did when she brought up the subject of his dying friend and former lover. Alex was fully aware that he had never stepped away from his relationship with Denise, never stopped loving her, although he swore to her it had changed, that he was no longer romantically involved with her. Alex had to trust him. She couldn't say he never lied to her, but she did believe that he had never cheated on her. She also knew that Denise was a good woman who would never allow him to stray, not with her, no matter how much she loved him, and Alex knew that she loved him very much.

Bobby withdrew his hand from hers and began to play with his napkin. "She's, uh, she's okay right now, mostly. The pregnancy is hard, because of the cancer. She has a lot of pain that...that they can't do much about. She still works half-days, but that won't continue for much longer."

Both Alex and Mike could hear the pain in his voice. He dealt with loss poorly, and Denise's illness was taking as much of an emotional toll on him as it was a physical toll on her. "Are you going to tell the kids?" Alex asked.

He paused, focusing on the napkin in his hands. "Maggie knows," he said. "But I don't know any way to explain it to Tom. He's too young to understand anything more than she's going away."

"And Maggie does understand?"

"She does as well as any six-year-old can. Maybe better."

"Will you take them to see her again?"

He was surprised by her question. "Do you want me to?"

"They love her. You have to let them say good-bye. Maybe Tom won't remember her, but Maggie will never forget her and if you don't let her say good-bye, she may resent it. I don't want that."

"What about you?"

It was her turn to be surprised. "Me?"

"Yes, you. Denise has always liked you, even if you haven't returned the sentiment, but how are you going to explain it to Maggie if you don't go to see her with us?"

He had a point. "Bobby, I like Denise, and I was always grateful for what she gave you when I couldn't."

Mike choked on his drink and Alex glared at him. "Excuse me," he said. "But that's not what I remember. You always resented her for sleeping with him because she could and you couldn't."

"You're a Neandertal, Logan. She did a lot more for him than that."

Bobby looked around, desperate for Carolyn to show up, with Sean or without him. Alex and Mike both noticed his restlessness, and they knew it was time to change the subject. Reaching out, Alex lightly played with his hair. "I'll go with you," she promised.

Finally looking at her, Bobby felt a sense of relief. "Thank you," he said.

"You don't have to thank me. Do you remember telling me there was nothing you wouldn't do for me?"

"Once or twice."

"Well, how can I do any less for you? Besides, how often do you ever ask me to do anything for you?"

He scratched the back of his head. "I distinctly remember, the other night..."

She gave him a light smack. "Shut up," she hissed, but she was smiling at the memory.

"Come on," Mike said. "You can't leave me hanging like this."

"Like hell we can't," Alex replied, knowing full well Mike would cajole Bobby into telling him what it was later on. Sometimes she was uncomfortable with the level of trust Bobby had with Mike, wondering if he trusted her the same way. But Mike had earned that trust a hundred times over, and Alex could not begrudge her husband his closest friend.

"I would like some things to remain private between us," she said with a teasing poke to Bobby's ribs.

"Like what?" he asked, trying to project an air of innocence.

She shook her head, but smiled. Every so often, he would do something in complete innocence that made her trip and fall head over heels for him all over again. His expression sent her reeling and she leaned up to kiss him, slipping her hand behind his head to prolong the kiss.

She sent his head spinning with her kiss and she took his breath away completely. He would have allowed himself to become lost in her had Mike not punched his shoulder. "Come up for air," Mike said. "She's here with her little appendage, just like I said."

Bobby took a moment to recover before responding, "Well, at least you know she doesn't trust someone else more than she trusts you."

"No. She mistrusts everyone equally."

Carolyn approached them, Sean on one hip, diaper bag over the other shoulder. Sean squealed happily when he saw his father and reached out for him. Rising, Mike took his son, making a point to ignore the boy's mother. Alex rolled her eyes. The evening was not starting off well.

Ever the gentleman, Bobby rose and pulled out the fourth chair for Carolyn. "Thank you," she said with a smile. "Sorry I'm late, but we came directly from the doctor's office."

"Doctor?" Mike said. "What's wrong with him?"

"He has a sniffle."

Mike stared at her. "And?"

"And what? He has a cold and I had to get him checked."

"Seriously? You took him to the doctor for a sniffle?"

She frowned. "When your child is sick, Mike, you take him to the doctor. If you were any kind of father..."

"Hold on, Carolyn," Alex interjected. "We aren't here to attack Mike's parenting. He loves Sean every bit as much as you do."

"How can you say that? If Sean had been in his care, he would not have taken him to the doctor."

"Neither would I," Alex responded. "You can't take a child to the doctor for every little sniffle."

"Give me one reason why not."

By now, Bobby had recovered his bearings, and he answered, "Every time you take him to the doctor, Carolyn, you expose him to illnesses he might not otherwise come into contact with. Most doctors make well child appointments separate from sick child appointments so that the healthy kids don't get sick as well. So when you take him in for a minor illness, you may unintentionally expose him to something much worse."

After a moment of silence, Mike finally spoke, "I couldn't have said it better myself, but you do realize she's going to go home and boil him now."

"Logan!" Carolyn snapped angrily.

Bobby laughed, defusing some of the tension. "You know he's kidding," he said, still smiling at Mike's remark.

"Two peas in a pod," she said. "You two are just alike."

Bobby looked around the table. He wasn't really hungry, partly due to the pain in his knee and partly due to the pain in his soul. He focused his gaze on Carolyn. "Listen to me," he said. "There is a problem here—a big problem—and you need to work it out. That's not going to happen with Sean sitting in your lap, which is why we asked you to drop him off with Reggie."

"Reggie has her hands full with all the other children. Suppose she doesn't have time for Sean?"

"Do you think for a second that Maggie or Tommy would ever let him be neglected?" Not giving her a chance to respond, he stood up. "That's a moot point now. You're here to talk to Mike, and Alex feels you need a mediator, so here you and Mike are and here she is, and Sean and I are going to take a walk."

Not giving her a chance to object, he reached over as Mike handed the baby to him. He winked at Alex and walked away.

They watched him leave, and once he was gone, Carolyn turned on Mike. "You planned that!"

"Actually, no. That was all him."

She looked at Alex, pointing at Bobby's half-empty glass. "How much has he had to drink?"

"Relax. Sean is perfectly fine with him."

Carolyn pushed her chair back. "I don't have to put up with this."

"Yes, you do," Mike retorted.

Alex leaned forward. "Mike is living at my house, Carolyn, because you treat him like an outsider in his own home. Like it or not, he is Sean's father, and he has every bit as much right to Sean as you do. You know that, and you know that the court will see it the same way."

"Court?"

Mike nodded. "Court. I'm not going to walk away from him, and if you ever thought I would, then you don't know me at all. We can work this out and I can come home, or I'll move my stuff out, but whatever happens between us, Sean is still my son, and I want joint custody. Wherever I am living, I want my son for half the time, and that is not up for debate."

Carolyn stared at him. "You would take my son away from me?"

"What? Have you completely lost your mind? When did this become about you?"

Alex intervened before their discussion escalated into a full-blown argument. "Just what are you doing to him, Carolyn? You are withholding your son from his father, and that isn't fair to either of them. He's not taking Sean away from you. He wants his time with him, and that's his right. It will be good for you and for Sean to have time apart. It's absolutely necessary."

Carolyn scanned the restaurant, looking for Bobby. Alex said, "He's right, Carolyn. It's not healthy. You need a life separate from your son. Mike has a right to spend equal time with him. But we aren't here just to talk about Sean. What about you and Mike?"

"What about us?"

Mike took over. "Us? There is no 'us' right now."

"You're the one who moved out, Logan."

"People, as a rule, don't like to stay where they aren't wanted, and I got fed up with being constantly criticized. I think I deserve better than that."

"When have I criticized you?"

"When? Try every time I do anything with Sean. I give him a bath and you bathe him again..."

"I have to make sure you washed off all the soap."

"I know how to wash a baby."

She seemed surprised by that information. "When did you ever bathe a baby before? Sean is your only child."

"First kid I ever bathed was Maggie when she was about six months old. I've given baths to all of Bobby and Alex's kids except Harry. I've fed them and dressed them. I play with them. And they've all survived."

"That's different. They aren't like Sean. He's not used to being handled by so many different people."

"Because you won't let anyone else touch him! You're obsessed, and it's not healthy. You were supposed to start teaching in January. Tell Alex why you didn't."

"I just postponed my start date. Sean needs me."

"How do you plan to pay the bills if you don't go back to work?" he challenged.

She glared at him. "You'll withhold money from your son?"

"Don't play that game with me, Barek. I'm not going to support your habit. I want joint custody. Equal time with my son."

"No judge will grant that. You can't even match his socks."

Exasperated, Mike looked at Alex. "A couple of weeks ago, I put a black sock and a navy blue sock on him. You'd have thought I murdered the Queen. Apparently, matching socks is the gold standard of good child care, and I just don't live up to it."

Alex gave Carolyn a look. "You criticize him for putting mismatched socks on the baby instead of giving him credit for putting socks on him at all. He gives the baby a bath, and you bathe him over again. He gets up with the baby so you can sleep in, and you change his clothes when you get up because you don't like what Mike chose to put on him. To his credit, he loves his son and he wants to spend time with him and help to raise him, but all you can give him for that is grief. What's going on with you? This is not like you at all. Before you left for Arizona, you were ready to marry him. Now you are driving him away and you won't even talk to him."

Mike sat silently listening to Alex go to bat for him, something he never expected. He knew he could always count on Bobby to be in his corner, but Alex? Would wonders never cease? When Alex mentioned Arizona, a light went on in his head. "Arizona."

Both women looked at him. Alex was curious, but Carolyn's expression was much darker. "I'm right," he said with certainty. "I never put it together until now."

"Put what together?" Alex asked.

Mike poked a finger in the air at Carolyn. "You were supposed to be gone for two weeks; you stayed for two months. Post-partum depression, my ass. Something happened in Arizona! How did I miss that? Before you went to Arizona, I could put his socks on his ears and you'd just laugh. What is it, Carolyn? Did your mother get to you? Did you think you could bully me into letting you move to Arizona with my son? Did you think I would get so fed up with your bullshit that I would tell you to leave? What happened to you out there? You used to at least talk to Alex about what you're thinking and feeling, but not this time. Why?"

Alex was impressed by Mike's sudden insight. He had changed so much since he'd gotten close to Bobby and all for the better. Remembering the kind of man he used to be—the hothead who once punched a councilman on the courthouse steps, the maverick with an IAB file the size of _War and Peace—_she contrasted who he once was with who he was now. He was the kind of friend to Bobby that everyone deserved to have in their lives. He was a man she was happy to have in the lives of her children, one she knew she could always depend on to love and protect them.

Seated across from her, Carolyn looked down at the table. "I don't want to be across the country from my son for half the year," she said.

"So don't move."

"But my parents deserve to have him in their lives and he should have them in his."

Mike slammed his hand on the table. "I'm his father, dammit! _I_ have the right to have him in my life!"

"But if you stepped away..."

"If I stepped away, then you'd have no reason to feel guilty. I deserve better from you. He's my son and I'm not going to let you run off with him. Let your folks come to New York to see him. Otherwise, he's gonna be on a plane every other month. Quit the crazy mother act. You're not moving across the country with Sean, and I'll get a court order if I have to." His frown deepened. "They were the ones who chose to move away. I'm not gonna feel guilty about their decision to live in Phoenix. Go if you want, but I'm not going to give up my son."

"I knew you wouldn't cooperate with me," Carolyn accused.

"Cooperate? You don't want me to cooperate. You want me to give you permission to take my son away from me, and that's not going to happen. You can leave him here with me or you can shuttle him back and forth six times a year. Or you can just stay in New York and teach at John Jay. But I'm not giving up my rights as his father."

Her expression turned dark. "Get a lawyer and prepare for a battle, Logan. I'm going back to Arizona and Sean is going with me."

"Damn straight I'll get a lawyer, but you're not going anywhere until the custody issue is worked out. Expect a court order to that effect in the next couple of days. I'm going for joint custody."

"And I will fight it every step of the way. I'm going to fight for you to have to come to Arizona to see him. We'll see how long that lasts."

Logan's face grew bright with rage. "You want to play dirty? Fine. I'm going to fight for full custody, then." He got to his feet. "I'm taking Sean home with me tonight. Bobby and I will get my stuff tomorrow."

"You can't..."

His glare silenced her and she slowly took the diaper bag off her chair and handed it to him. He took it and walked away without another word.

Once he was gone, Alex asked, "Is this the way you want it?"

"All I wanted was for him to let me take the baby and move closer to my parents. He's spent too much time with Bobby."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"It is for getting what I want."

"What happened to you? You've done a complete turn-around, Carolyn. How did your family turn you against Mike?"

"They didn't." She sighed unevenly. "I honestly didn't realize how much I missed my family until I went out there with Sean. My mother made me realize that Mike just isn't a marrying man and that she and my dad will be a lot more help to me than Mike ever will. I interviewed for a teaching job just before I left and it looks good for me to get it. My father and one of my brothers will come out to help me move. It's all settled."

"So that's it? You just made this decision without even talking to Mike. Your plan was to just spring this on him and hope for the best?"

"I had no idea how to approach him. I thought if I frustrated him, he would be glad to get rid of me."

"You, maybe. But Sean? I can't see that happening."

"I guess I was hoping he'd be more of the man he used to be and less of the man he's become since he befriended Bobby."

Alex smiled. "Do you really think Bobby would let him get away with that?"

Carolyn looked down at the table. "I guess not. I know I should be grateful that he's such an involved father, but I can't help resenting him. Do you think he'll pursue the custody thing?"

"I'm sure he will. Maybe if you meet him halfway, he'll settle for joint custody."

"He's really going to make Sean travel across the country every month?"

"He won't give up his son, and it's not fair to ask him to move to Arizona. His life is here."

Carolyn frowned. "Bobby once considered moving, but he stayed because of Maggie. Why can't Mike move because of Sean?"

Alex was surprised. "He what?"

"You didn't know? Back when you were still married to Ricky, Bobby got to the point that he didn't think he could handle it any more. He thought about moving away to start over again, to distance himself from you and maybe stand a chance of getting over you. Mike said he talked to police departments in Atlanta, Chicago, Denver and Seattle. I think one of them even made him an offer. Ultimately, he decided that he couldn't leave Maggie. The pain of facing his loss was nothing compared to not having that little girl in his life, even if she wasn't his."

Alex felt a lump form in her throat. "I had no idea."

"You had no idea about a lot of things back then. But my point is—why can't Mike be that devoted to Sean?"

Alex was quiet, absorbing what Carolyn had just told her. She knew times had been rough for Bobby back then, but she had no idea just how rough. After a few minutes, she forced herself back to the conversation. "None of this is fair, Carolyn. You left for a two week visit to see your parents that lasted a couple of months. When you came back, you seemed like an entirely different person. Now you announce you're moving across the country and you expect him to be okay with it, or to uproot his life and follow you with no real prospect for a future with you any more. You haven't really given him any thought, have you?"

"Why are you taking his side this time?"

"Because you aren't being fair to him. Why can't you see that?"

Carolyn looked around, frowning when she saw Bobby across the room without Sean. Mike really must have taken him. He approached and leaned over to kiss Alex's cheek. "Are you going to stay for dinner?"

She looked up at him. "You're not?"

He shook his head. "I'm going to go with Mike. If you want to stay, one of us will come back for you."

She searched his eyes. "What is it?"

"I need to make a stop on the way."

"Denise?"

He nodded reluctantly. "She, uhm, she needs some help, and I'm really not hungry. If you want me to stay..."

She shook her head. "No, it's okay. Go ahead. I'll find a way home."

"Alex..."

"Really. It's okay."

He paused before leaning over to kiss her again. Straightening to his full height, he looked at Carolyn. Quietly, he said, "Give it some serious thought before you fully commit to relocating," he advised. "Mike deserves better than this."

He walked away. Alex watched him until he was out of sight. When she turned back, Carolyn was watching her. "You're really okay with that?"

"With what?"

"With him going to Denise."

"Yes. She's dying and he's all she has."

"She has to have other friends."

"Since she got so sick, most of the friends she did have avoid her because they can't deal with her illness. So now, she has Bobby and Mike, and me to an extent. She doesn't have much more than a couple of months left."

"You're a better person than I am. I don't think I would be comfortable with my husband at the beck and call of a former lover."

"You don't know Denise. I trust Bobby, and I trust her. They both have integrity. Bobby has had plenty of chances to cheat on me, especially with her, and he never has."

"How do you know?"

"They both told me it's never happened, and if it had, Bobby's guilt would eat him alive. I would know. I have no doubt about that. And Denise would never let him put his family on the line. She just wouldn't."

Carolyn shook her head. "You're way too trusting. I would never let Mike continue to see an old girlfriend."

"Mike isn't Bobby."

"They're more alike than you realize."

"Only in some ways. If you don't trust Mike, why did you agree to marry him?"

"I thought things would be different once the baby came, and they are, just not the way I hoped." She paused. "Do you think that he and Bobby are too involved?"

"Once I did, but not any more. The relationship they have with each other is exactly what they need it to be. Think about it this way: if they were brothers, would you feel the same way?"

"Well, no..."

"Okay, then. Mike is an only child and Bobby disowned Frank long ago. I'm glad they have the friendship they do. If it wasn't for Mike, I would have lost Bobby long ago."

"Maggie is the one who saved him."

"Maybe so, but it was Mike who kept him around so she could. Maybe Mike doesn't form attachments the way Bobby does, but there are a very few important exceptions to that. Sean is one."

"And Bobby is the other."

"Yes. He won't leave New York, and he won't let Sean live full-time in Arizona, which is his right."

"So if I go, I'm stuck with a long distance parenting situation."

"Yes."

They were interrupted by the waiter and, after a couple of indecisive moments, they ordered dinner. The waiter brought them another bottle of wine, and Alex called her sister to make sure it was okay for the kids to spend the night. Carolyn said, "Your family is here. You have all the support you need. I didn't realize how much that meant until I had Sean."

"I can't say much about that because I've always had my family close. But if they all chose to move away tomorrow, and Bobby wanted to stay, I would stay."

"Of course you would. He's your husband and you love him. No one would question that."

"So you don't love Mike?"

"He makes it hard sometimes. Since the baby came, I don't feel the same way toward him that I used to. In good conscience, I can't marry him, and I think he's okay with that. So I'll move to Arizona and he can have his bachelor pad back."

"It's not that simple. He's a father now with a father's responsibilities."

"Only for half the year. Where is he going to live if he doesn't move back to his apartment?"

"He'll stay with us. We're putting in an addition with two new bedrooms. Bobby has already offered him one of the rooms and we've talked about maybe adding an outside door if he stays."

"So he never intended to come home?"

"It's not that. Bobby offered it for as long as he wants or needs it. Mike will always have a place to live, but Bobby was still hoping you would reconcile."

"As you can see, that doesn't seem to be an option."

"Carolyn, don't be so hard on him. He's lived in New York all his life and you want to uproot him and make him move across the country with no support system, no friends, not even a relationship. Why are you surprised he won't go?"

"If he loved Sean..."

"He does love Sean, which is why he's putting up a fight. He doesn't want you taking the baby anywhere, but if you insist, he's going to make sure his rights are protected."

Their dinners arrived and when they were alone again, Carolyn said, "I never expected him to step up and be a father. He's content playing favorite uncle to your kids. I never expected more than that."

"Then you really don't know Mike."

"I guess I underestimated him."

Alex cut off a piece of chicken. "That's something we've all done, to both of them. They've proved us wrong every time."

As they continued to eat, their conversation turned to other topics and the rest of their evening was pleasant.


	3. Family Emergency

Mike pulled up in front of Denise's apartment building and shifted into park. "I can wait out here with Sean, if you want."

"Why would I want that? Come on."

They went into the building and up to Denise's third floor apartment. When Bobby pulled out his keys, Mike raised an eyebrow. "You have a key to her place?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Not for me. Does Alex know?"

"Uh, no."

"I'll keep quiet about it then."

Bobby slid his key into the lock. "It's not a secret."

"I didn't think it was. I would put it under the 'things better left unsaid' category."

"I'm not keeping it from her, Mike. It's just something that's never come up. She's never gone through my keys and asked me what each one is for."

"I guess that would be a little much, huh?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"Sometimes it's too much for Denise to get up to answer the door. It just makes sense for me to have a key since I stop by to check on her every day."

He opened the door and they went into the neat apartment. Mike looked around. "Sick as she is, she can still find the energy to clean?"

"No. A nurse friend of mine has been hired to come by to be with her every day. She was hired to monitor her health and give her the IV medication she needs, but she cooks and cleans and helps her out wherever she needs it, too. It won't be too much longer before a night nurse comes in as well."

Mike studied him. He was too detached from what was happening. "Bobby..."

Bobby shook his head. "Please, don't."

With a nod, Mike let the matter drop. Bobby knew what he was doing. It was the only way he could cope with losing this woman he'd been so close to for so many years. Mike watched him cross the room and enter the hallway that led back to the two bedrooms. A moment later, he came back. "Well, come on."

Mike hadn't seen Denise in awhile and he was hesitant, but he finally followed his friend to the bedroom at the far end of the hall. Bobby knocked softly, then opened the door after a muffled response to his knock.

Denise was sitting in the bed, wearing an oversized sweatshirt, one of Bobby's from the look of it. She smiled at the two men, her face brightening when she saw Sean. "Hi, boys. You brought someone to see me!" she exclaimed, delighted.

Denise loved children so much. It hurt Bobby to think she would never enjoy her own baby, never experience the thrill of the baby's milestones, never see that baby grow up. He reached out to Sean, who didn't hesitate to go to him. Gently, he sat the baby beside Denise. "You look just like your daddy," she cooed to the baby, who smiled at the gentle voice.

"Have you eaten?" Bobby asked.

"Missy made me some oatmeal before she left."

"Did you eat it?"

"Some of it."

Bobby watched her as she focused her attention on the baby he'd set beside her. She tickled his belly and he giggled, which made her smile. She would make such a good mother, ever patient, ever loving. She'd put up with him for more than two decades. He moved away from the bedside under the pretense of opening the window to let in fresh air.

Holding Sean, Denise watched him. She knew him well; he was hiding nothing from her. "Come back over here, Bobby."

Reluctantly, he returned to the bedside. She shifted herself over and patted the bed. "Sit down."

He sat down and she took his hand. "Talk to me, please."

"Denise, I...I can't."

"Are you telling me that you still haven't come to terms with this?"

"How am I supposed to come to terms with...with losing you? That's something I'll never be okay with."

Mike clapped his hand on Bobby's shoulder, then he gathered Sean up and said, "We'll be out in the living room."

Bobby nodded and Mike left the room with his son after Denise gave the baby a kiss. Denise shifted again, closer to Bobby. "I can't remember a time when you weren't part of my life," she said softly, still holding his hand. "I love you so much, and it hurts me deeply to cause you pain."

He released her hand and moved so that he could hold her in his arms. "It's not your fault," he said quietly into her hair.

She rested her back against his chest and relaxed, trusting his strong arms to support her. She moved the sheet that covered her and lifted her shirt to show him her growing belly. "Look at how big the baby is getting."

He reached out and rested his hand on her belly. The baby kicked his hand and he smiled, remembering the times his own children had done the same thing. "Pregnancy is such an amazing thing," he murmured.

Impulsively, she kissed his cheek. "I love how wonderful you are."

"I'm not so great. There's lots of room for improvement."

"I love you just the way you are."

He was quiet as the baby kicked his hand again. "You've always been too good to me."

"Not good enough, I'm afraid." She paused before charging ahead to say what she wanted to say. "Sometimes, I wish I'd said yes the first time you proposed to me, but then I see the look in your eyes when you look at Alex. I never saw that adoration when you looked at me and I know it was right to say no. You were meant to be with her. You've always belonged to her."

"Don't kid yourself. I belong to you, too."

"In a very different way. I would never give you up, and I hate what this cancer is doing to you. If there was any way I could spare you this pain, Bobby, I would."

His eyes were bright with tears and he buried his face in her hair. "And if there was any way I could save your life, I would. I would trade places with you in a heartbeat."

"I don't doubt that for a second and I love you for it, but that is something I would never let you do. You have too much love in your life, too many people who love you and need you."

He had pointedly avoided discussing her impeding death, with her or anyone else, but it was a talk he knew they had to have. He just wasn't ready for it; he never would be.

The phone in his pocket chose that moment to ring, sparing him the conversation he didn't want to have. Shifting, he pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID. _Reggie_. He answered the call. "Hello."

"Daddy..."

He frowned and sat up straighter. "Maggie, what's wrong?"

"Daddy, Grampa fell down and he won' wake up. I al'eady called 911, but Harry's scared and Tommy's cryin' and I don' know what else to do."

"Where's Aunt Reggie?"

"Jake fell outta a tree in the backyard and she taked him to the hospital. I tried to call Uncle Aaron but he didn' answer."

"All right...Uncle Mike and I will be there as fast as we can get there."

She sounded more confident when she said, "Okay, Daddy. I'll take care-a my babies."

"Good girl."

He shoved his phone in his pocket and leaned over to kiss Denise's cheek. "We've gotta run. Call if you need me. Otherwise, I'll see you tomorrow."

She touched his hand. "Are the kids okay?"

He nodded. "Maggie's watching them. They're fine, but something's wrong with John."

"Let me know."

"I will."

He hurried out the door. Mike was sitting on the couch with Sean when he rushed into the living room. "What's wrong?"

"Maggie just called. We've gotta go now."

Without hesitating, Mike jumped up, called good-bye to Denise and ran out the door after Bobby.

* * *

After securing his son in his carseat, Mike got into the passenger seat. Bobby pulled away from the curb before he got the door closed. "What's going on?" Mike asked as he fastened his seatbelt.

"Jake fell out of a tree and Reggie took him to the ER. She left the kids with John. He collapsed and Maggie said she can't wake him up. She called 911 and then she called me."

"Oh, no...Hey! There's a car...Never mind."

Bobby pulled out his phone and tossed it to Mike, who was tense. "Here. Distract yourself and call Alex."

"Promise me you'll put a little more space between us and the next car you pass."

"Just call her."

Mike did as he asked, wondering if the ride would be less harrowing with his eyes closed. He tried it as he waited for Alex to answer and decided it wasn't. His imagination actually presented a more frightening ride than the one his friend was giving them.

"Hi, honey," Alex answered.

"Wrong honey, dear," Mike replied.

She could hear the stress in his voice. "What's wrong? Is Denise okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. Look, something happened at your sister's and your fighter pilot husband is flying us there now."

"Oh, God...what happened?"

"Apparently, your nephew fell out of a tree and his mom took him to the ER. She left the kids with your dad. Maggie called and told Bobby that Grampa fell and she can't wake him up. She's taking care of the little ones and we're—hey! You promised not to do that again!"

"Did not," Bobby answered tightly.

"Dammit, Bobby!"

"Mike! What's going on?" Alex demanded.

"He drives like Speed Racer when he's _not_ in a panic. Just say I never questioned your judgment in doing the driving."

"Tell him to be careful. We'll meet you at the house."

"I'll tell him."

The line went dead and Mike hit Bobby's shoulder. "Your wife said to be careful."

"I am careful."

"Then why am I getting ulcers? Watch that—" He winced involuntarily as Bobby swerved around the tail end of a truck backing out of a delivery zone. "—truck..."

"I saw it."

"Did he see you?"

"Do you want to walk?"

"At least I'd get there in one piece. We have a baby in the car, remember?"

"I know. I told you I'm being careful."

"Can you ratchet that careful up just a little?"

Bobby tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Quit being a baby."

"Look," Mike said, trying to be reasonable. "We'll never get there if you wreck the car. And if you do wreck the car, your wife and Carolyn will be vying for the chance to kick your ass to who wouldn't have it. That is, if I leave anything for them to kick. You said Maggie called 911, right?"

"Yes."

"She'll take good care of her sister and the boys until the cops get there, and they won't leave them alone in the house. The kids will be fine."

"The boys are scared and so is she."

"You aren't going to break any land speed records in Brooklyn, so quit trying. We'll get there as fast as we can."

Bobby was quiet. He held the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. "My kids are scared. They need me, and I don't want to let them down."

"You've never let them down, buddy. They know you're on the way and that thought alone will comfort them."

Bobby remained tense, but he slowed down enough to mollify Mike. It took tremendous effort for him to ease off the accelerator, but Mike was right. If he wrecked the car, he would do his children no good.

When he turned the corner onto Reggie's street, there was a lone patrol car parked in the driveway. He brought the car to a screeching halt at the curb and jumped out. The front door flew open and Maggie ran across the porch, down the steps and into his arms. She held tightly to his neck. "Shhh," he said softly as she began to cry. "It's okay now."

"The amb'lance taked Grampa to the hospital," she sobbed.

He looked toward the house where a uniformed officer stood on the porch, holding Molly. Bobby approached him, extending his hand to the officer. "Robert Goren. Thanks for staying with them."

"Stan Horowitz. They're good kids. They're scared and worried about their grandfather."

Mike joined them on the porch. Without taking her head from her father's shoulder, Maggie reached out to Sean. "Hi, baby Sean."

Sean made a happy, excited sound at her. After greeting Horowitz, Mike held out an arm to Maggie. "Come on, bunny. Let's go inside and check on the boys."

She went with Mike, who came back out once he'd set Sean down to play with Maggie and her brothers. He took Molly from the officer and carried her into the house. Horowitz jerked his head toward the house. "That's some little girl you have there. Very responsible."

"Thanks. What about my father-in-law?"

Horowitz shook his head. "Maggie told us he was in the kitchen fixing them a bedtime snack. He called out to her and collapsed before she could respond. She tried to wake him up, but couldn't so she called 911. She made sure the stove was off and she sat by her grandfather, comforting the other children until I arrived."

"Thank you for staying with them."

"It was my pleasure."

"What hospital did they take him to?"

"Nassau University Medical Center."

"Thanks again."

Bobby shook his hand again and went into the house as Horowitz walked to his patrol car. Mike was sitting on the floor with Sean and Tommy in his lap. Maggie sat beside him with Molly in front of her, rolling a ball back and forth. Harry watched them from the couch, still careful to keep Mike at a safe distance. That distance, though, was becoming shorter and shorter.

Mike looked up at him. "Why don't you go over to the hospital? I'll stay here with the kids."

"I'll leave shortly," he said, sitting in a nearby recliner.

He needed to take a minute to regroup, to be with the children and find some semblance of inner calm before he could possibly deal with what had happened to the man who had become a father to him.


	4. Back in the Doghouse

The children had settled and Mike was reading them a story when the front door flew open. Alex and Carolyn hurried into the house. Sean and Molly sat on either side of him. Maggie snuggled with Sean and Tommy held Molly in a hug, while Harry sat in the recliner, holding onto a teddy bear.

The two women stopped and looked at the scene before them. Mike looked up at their expressions and said, "What?"

Alex spoke first. "Are you kids all right?"

Maggie answered, "We're fine, Mommy. I taked care-a all my babies til Daddy and Uncle Mike got here. Harry he'ped me."

"Me, too, Mama!" Tommy announced.

Maggie nodded with a smile at her beloved little brother. "Tommy played with Molly so she wouldn' be scared."

Alex smiled at Harry, who slid off the recliner and approached cautiously to give her a hug. When her manner was reassuring, his caution slipped away.

"You did everything exactly right," she told the children, reassured by their calm. Bobby and Mike had obviously gone to great lengths to reassure them about their grandfather and she wasn't going to destroy that in a moment of blind panic. "Where's Daddy?" she asked as she kissed each child, including Sean.

Tom answered, "Dada bye-bye."

Maggie smiled and hugged him. "Daddy went to see Grampa," she said.

Alex looked at Mike, who said, "Nassau University Medical Center. He left about fifteen minutes ago."

He bit his lip to keep from adding a comment about Goren's driving. Carolyn would have a cow if he said anything about it, and he didn't want to open _that_ can of worms. At least Bobby wasn't a reckless driver. "Are you okay with the kids?" Alex asked. "I'm sure Reggie will be home soon."

"We're fine. Go on to the hospital."

"Tell Reggie what happened. She can drive you and the kids home."

He nodded and looked at Carolyn. "I guess you're going to take my son and go."

"Do you want me to?"

"Take Sean? No."

Maggie looked between Mike and Carolyn, who were two of her favorite people in the world, and she sensed the tension between them. She didn't understand it, and she didn't like it. "Can't Sean stay, Aunt Car'lyn? I will he'p Uncle Mike watch him."

Carolyn hated being put on the spot, but she finally nodded. "Okay, he can stay. I'll come back to get him tomorrow."

Mike made no effort to hide his surprise, but he didn't comment. As Carolyn walked toward the door with Alex, he said, "Okay, troops. Let's finish this story."

Once they were out on the porch, Alex said, "Good decision, Carolyn. You have to trust him. He's Sean's father."

"How did you do it with Bobby?"

Alex smiled. "It was a no brainer with Maggie. Besides, I think it was always Maggie who took care of Bobby. By the time Tommy and Molly came along, I didn't even have to think about it."

"But this is Mike."

"And he will be fine with Sean. I trust him with my children. He learned a lot from Bobby and Maggie. You see how much the kids adore him."

Alex waved to Carolyn as she backed out of the driveway, then she got into her car and left, not worried about leaving her children in Mike's care. They would take good care of him.

* * *

There was no missing her husband when Alex walked into the emergency room. The waiting room was mostly empty, and he was pacing restlessly in the middle of the room. His agitation made the few other people in the room wary, and they sat on the far side of the room, watching him. She also watched him for a minute before she called his name. He stopped midstride and turned toward her. She met his eyes and ran into his arms.

Folding his arms around her, he buried his face in her hair and drew in an uneven breath. Eyes closed, he found calm in her embrace. When he felt able to talk, he softly said, "He had a heart attack. They've stabilized him and they're going to transfer him up to the cardiac care unit. He's in stable condition right now. Maggie's quick response was critical in saving him."

She trembled and softly sobbed into his shirt, and he held her.

* * *

It was very late when Alex got home. Bobby's car wasn't in the driveway, which puzzled her. She went into the dark, quiet house and, after getting a drink of water, went upstairs. Her bed was empty. She checked on Molly and Sean in the crib then changed her clothes and checked on Harry. It was a good sign that he no longer woke when she opened his door to check on him as he slept.

When she opened Maggie's door, the little girl appeared to be sleeping. As she pulled the door closed, though, Maggie called to her. Alex stepped through the doorway into the room and sat lightly on the edge of the bed. "What is it, baby?"

"How is Grampa?"

Alex reached out and tenderly caressed her little daughter's cheek. "You saved his life, Maggie. You did exactly the right thing by calling 911 immediately. And then you took care of your brothers and sister. I am so very proud of you."

Maggie smiled. "Is Daddy proud, too?"

"Of course he is, sweetheart. Grandpa will be in the hospital for a week or so, and then he will come home...because you took care of him, too."

Maggie gave that some thought, and finally she said, "I jus' did what Daddy taught me to do."

Leaning down, Alex gave Maggie a kiss. "You did great. Go back to sleep, baby."

"Can I see Daddy?"

"He's not home right now."

"Didn' he come home with you?"

"No, he didn't. He had somewhere...else to be."

Maggie tipped her head to the side, studying her mother in the dim light cast by her nightlight on the far wall. "You are mad at Daddy."

Sometimes Maggie was too perceptive. "Yes, I am. Right now I am very mad at him."

"Why?"

"Don't worry about it, honey. It's between Daddy and me."

Maggie's brow furrowed. She was very sensitive to tension between her parents and she didn't like it. "But, Mommy..."

Alex pressed a kiss to Maggie's forehead. "Go back to sleep, baby. Don't worry about Daddy and me."

Alex tucked the covers around Maggie's little body and smoothed back her curly hair. _So much like Bobby..._

She rose and walked across the room. "Mommy..." Alex turned. "Do you still love Daddy?"

"Of course I do. I've been mad at him before, Maggie, but I have never stopped loving him."

Maggie studied her again for a moment, sensing that it was not the time to defend her father. "I love you, Mommy."

"I love you, too, honey."

Alex left the room and closed the door. She stood in the hall for a few minutes, trying to sort through her feelings. Then she went to Tommy's room. As always, her sweet little boy slept peacefully, an ability that had been taken from his father long ago. She kissed his blond curls and walked over to Logan's bed. Gently, she jostled his shoulder. "Mike?" she whispered.

He made an odd snorting noise and turned toward her, slowly opening his eyes. "Nhuh? Alex?" He forced himself awake. "Uh...hi. How's John?"

"He's going to be okay because he got medical attention right away, thanks to Maggie."

"She's an amazing kid."

"Yes, she is."

"What's wrong, then? You didn't wake me to chat about Maggie."

"Would you come and talk to me, Mike?"

He let out a sigh and pushed off his blanket, following her out of the room and down to the kitchen. She took down two tumblers, fixing them each a rum and cola. "Booze," he commented. "Must be a serious talk."

"Do you know where Bobby is?"

"I thought he was with you at the hospital."

"He was. He left a couple of hours ago, but he's not home."

"Was he coming home?"

"He didn't say, but I expected him to be here by now."

He studied her face. "You're angry."

"Of course I'm angry!" she declared. "Mike, I have tried so hard to be understanding. I know it's a difficult time for him, and I have been very accommodating."

"You told him that you were okay with his friendship with Denise."

"I was, for awhile."

"Are you sure?"

"I..." She paused. "No, I'm not sure."

"So you're _not_ okay with Denise?"

"I never had a problem with _her_. My problem is with my husband, with the relationship he's always had with her."

"So why did you tell him you were okay with it?"

"I tried to be, Mike. Given the circumstances, I really tried. I even offered my friendship, but she always turns to him."

"Alex, she knows you don't like her. Besides, she's been friends with him for her entire adult life and most of his."

"They've been more than friends for most of that time."

"Yeah, but not recently."

"Are you sure about that, Mike? Could you just turn off deep emotions like that?"

He shrugged. "I've never felt emotion that deep so I've never tried. And yes, I'm sure. He doesn't play games like that. You're the one he chose, remember?"

"Because she turned him down."

"Yes, she did, but it wasn't because she didn't love him. It was because she knew how much in love with you he was. She wouldn't put either of them in that situation. He loves you both, but you're the one he's in love with. You're the one who's had his kids. Give him _some_ credit."

She shook her head. Mike always defended him. But before she could say anything, her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and took a deep breath before she answered it. "Where are you?" she said without preamble.

The other end was silent for a long while as he tried to process her tone. "How's your dad?"

"He's resting quietly. Where are you?"

"I'm, uh, I'm in Brooklyn, on my way home."

"Do you know what time it is?"

"Uhm, no."

Something inside her snapped. She had tried so very hard to be understanding and sympathetic, but he finally pushed her too far. "Don't come home, Goren," she snapped, her tone cold.

"What?"

"You heard me. Just...stay...stay away."

She ended the call and glared at Mike, daring him to challenge her. Wisely, he remained silent. When her phone rang again, she refused to answer. She went up to her bedroom, leaving Mike to deal with her wayward husband.

* * *

When Bobby came home, he wasn't surprised to find Mike waiting for him. He was surprised that his friend was on the porch. "She kick you out, too?"

"Not yet. What were you thinking?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's closer to dawn than sunset and you're just getting home."

"We went to Denise's because she needed something, remember? She never got around to telling me before we took off, so I went back to make sure she was okay."

"Did it occur to you to call her and ask?"

"She didn't tell me the first time. She just asked me to come over."

"And? What did she want, other than you?"

Bobby let out a heavy sigh. "I...I don't know. She was sleeping when I got there. I made sure she was okay and I left." His face turned hard. "I'm not sleeping with her, Mike."

"I know that. It's your wife who questions it, and it wouldn't be a problem if you'd come home at a decent hour, bonehead."

"How can she...? I thought we'd worked this out."

"So did she, but I guess it's not as worked out as either of you thought it was. So if you weren't at Denise's, where were you for half the night?"

"Just out. I went down to Canarsie Pier and watched the water, trying to come to terms with everything. I...I just..." He closed his eyes for a moment. "How mad is she?"

"Oh, she's plenty pissed. The eggshells are super fragile, buddy."

"Did she really mean it? She doesn't want me to come home?"

"That I don't know. You'll have to ask her."

"Do you think I should?"

Mike shrugged. "That's your call. Personally, if I was in your shoes, I'd be sleeping on the couch."

"I've never slept on the couch because she's mad at me."

"There's a first time for everything. Too bad I don't have my place anymore. You and I could go there."

"I thought she wasn't mad at you."

"Give it time. She always gets pissed at me when I'm not mad at you because she is."

Bobby looked up at the house. "I wish she'd make up her damn mind. Either she's okay with Denise or she's not."

"I don't think she knows. But when her husband is out til all hours at an old girlfriend's place, one he has a lifelong history with, well, she gets insecure."

Bobby frowned and stuck his hands in his pockets. "But...I'm not doing anything wrong! And I wasn't at Denise's!"

"It doesn't really matter. How would you feel if she was hanging out with Joe or Ricky?"

His frown deepened. "I would worry because they're both dead."

Mike laughed. "Okay, Mr. Literal. An old boyfriend, then, one she was particularly close to."

He gave that some thought. "I...I don't know. I would like to think I would trust her. And if it made her happy..."

Mike shook his head. "You are too tied up in what satisfies her."

Bobby waved his hand toward the house. "Look what happens when I do something I want to do!"

Mike leaned back in the chair. "Yeah, but what you choose to do can threaten your relationship. The one time you take a stand, you're fighting for the woman Alex has spent the last eight years being jealous of."

"If she wanted me, she could have had me in a heartbeat, until she married Ricky."

"The only thing that ever stood in the way was that wonderful lack of communication you suffer from."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck, agitated and feeling persecuted. "Why does she keep setting me up? She tells me something is okay and then gets mad when I fucking believe her."

"Because she's a woman?"

He pulled out his car keys. "I hope my daughters are better than that," he snapped, walking back to the car.

"Where are you going?"

"To find a couch. I will not sleep on my own couch because she's mad at me."

Mike got to his feet and walked to the passenger side of the car. Bobby scowled at him. "What are you doing?"

"Saving your marriage. If I don't go with you, you'll go back to Denise's and, couch or not, it's over between you and Alex. Then, after Denise dies, I'll find myself back in the same hell we were in during Alex's marriage to Ricky, and I am _not_ going back there. So let's cruise around for awhile, maybe get some breakfast." He got into the car. "And don't worry about Alex. I already left a note."

Bobby laughed softly and started the car.


	5. Agony of Defeat

Mike turned the car into the driveway. "Uh oh."

Bobby looked up. Alex was sitting rigidly on the porch. That was a bad sign. His anger flared. She had no reason to be so angry with him. He hadn't done anything wrong. He got out of the car.

Mike could feel the tension and anger rolling off his friend, and that made him very nervous. Bobby rarely got furious with his wife, and even more rarely did he confront her. This was not going to turn out well.

Sure enough, Alex stepped off the porch to meet him in the yard. "Why do you do this?" she demanded.

"Do what? I didn't do anything wrong."

"The hell you didn't! My father is laying in a hospital bed and you go off gallivanting for the entire night! I thought I could count on you!"

"Count on me? You never even acknowledged I was there!"

"You can't always be the center of attention!"

"What? When am I _ever_ the center of attention? When did I ever want to be? You didn't need me."

"So you had someplace better to be? With Denise maybe?"

"With...? No! What the hell is going on with you? I thought...you told me..." He trailed off and backed away from her. "You said you were okay with it."

"Bobby, I was never okay with it. I tried to be. I tried hard. But...I will not share my husband with another woman!"

"Share...?" His anger slipped from his control. "I share you with half of New York! The children, your family, your partner...I need to take a goddam number! And you resent me spending a little time with my dying friend? What do you think I'm doing? She doesn't have the energy to eat a bowl of oatmeal and Mike is with me most of the time when I stop by! Don't you get it? She's dying! In a few months, it's gonna be over, and then you'll never have to worry about her again...unless you resent me stopping to put flowers on her grave!"

He turned on his heel, yanked out his keys and returned to the car. He made a motion with his left hand, and Mike stayed put. He wasn't welcome, not this time. _Fuck_. He had never seen Bobby turn his rage on his wife before. He cringed at the squeal of the tires as Bobby drove off. With deep reluctance, he turned toward Alex, who watched the car turn the corner at the end of the block. Her hands were shaking with anger. "He can stay away," she growled. Then she seemed to notice Mike. Stabbing the air with an index finger, she put as much vehemence as she could pack into her next words. "You can stay until Carolyn picks up Sean."

She stormed up the steps into the house and slammed the door. Mike remained in the front yard, looking from the house to the corner at the end of the block and back. He knew that Alex saw him as an extension of her husband at the moment, and he was wary about going into the house, but he couldn't stay out in the yard, as much as he wanted to. Bracing himself for an unpleasant morning, he walked slowly toward the porch.

* * *

Maggie pushed her spoon around through her cereal, but she wasn't really eating. Mike sat down beside her and ruffled her hair. "What's up, kiddo?"

She looked at him with moist eyes. "Where's Daddy?"

Mike didn't know how to answer that one. He still cringed when Alex walked past him, almost expecting her to lash out at him in Bobby's stead. But she had not spoken to him since they'd come into the house. He'd stayed clear of her, keeping to the family room or the yard, playing with the kids and the puppy while she busied herself with weekend cleaning.

"Uncle Mike?"

Maggie wouldn't let him get away with not answering. "I don't know where he is, baby."

"Is he coming home?"

"I don't know."

Her eyes grew bright with tears. "Why is Mommy so mad?"

"That's a good question, and I don't have an answer for you."

"Are you gonna leave, too?"

He nodded. "Yes. Once Aunt Carolyn picks up Sean."

"Are you goin' home with Aun' Car'lyn?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Where will you go?"

"I don't know yet, honey."

She fell quiet again and finally set down her spoon. "Can you do something for me, Uncle Mike?"

"I'll do anything for you, sweetheart."

"Find Daddy for me. Make sure he's okay and keep him safe until Mommy's not mad at him any more."

She didn't ask for much, not to her mind anyway. Just keep her daddy safe. He tried to give her a reassuring smile. "I will do my best, okay?"

She nodded and climbed down from her chair, leaving her cereal mostly untouched. God, that kid could break a heart. With a sigh, he got up and went to find Alex.

* * *

She was vacuuming Harry's room. There were no children in sight. The boys were in the yard, Sean and Molly were napping and Maggie was sitting with her puppy in the family room. He took a chance and pulled the plug out of the wall. She spun toward him. "What is wrong with you?"

He watched her gather the cord with the intention of plugging the machine back into the wall. "I could ask the same question," he replied.

"Logan..."

"Just hear me out, will ya?"

He was trying her patience as he often did. Tightening her grip on the cord, she answered tightly, "Go on."

At least she was willing to listen. "Bear with me. Let's examine the vows you took, just for a minute. 'For rich or for poor.' No problem there. Money's never been an issue between you. As long as his family is well provided for, then he doesn't care about the rest of it. That's why he changed his life insurance."

Her impatience at him slipped away. "He did what?"

_Oops_. "He didn't change the beneficiary, just the amount. You've been his beneficiary for a long time."

"I don't care about that. _When_ did he change it?"

He got the feeling he was making things worse for Goren, but he plowed ahead. "After the first time he was shot and nearly killed, back when Maggie was little."

She settled a little. "That's why he never told me."

"He wanted to make absolutely certain that you and Maggie were provided for if anything happened to him."

When she didn't say anything more, he moved on. "'In sickness and in health.' Again, no problem there. Neither of you has ever had a problem caring for the other during sickness or injury. When you love someone, you're always there for them."

"Like he was last night?"

Logan stood his ground. "Did you _ask_ him why he left last night?"

"I shouldn't have to; he shouldn't have left."

Mike didn't agree. He made the effort to understand his friend, and he wondered why Alex did not. "Do you have any idea how important your father is to him? That man always treated Bobby with respect, always showed him a father's love. Maybe that's just the way your father is. I haven't known him that long and I don't know him well. But Bobby always saw him as the father he never had, and he gives him a son's love. When he saw John laying in that bed, hooked up to monitors and IVs, pumped full of sedatives and drugs...it was more than he was prepared to handle. He's smart, and he knows hospitals, but somewhere along the way, your father grew invincible to him. Seeing him vulnerable to the failure of his own body...well, it was just too much for him. He had to get out of there. He thought you understood."

Alex sat down on Harry's bed. She'd had no idea. She was so wrapped up in fussing over her sleeping father that she never saw the panic in her husband. "I didn't know. He should have told me."

"Sometimes, he forgets that you can't read him like he can read you. Which brings me to the final vow: 'for better or worse.' That's where you guys run into trouble. When things go wrong, he turns in to himself. He never learned how to turn to someone else, and that upsets you. That was never an option for him before."

"He turns to you," she said bitterly.

Mike shrugged. "I'm different. He knows I'm not going anywhere, no matter what dumbass thing he does. But you? He's not so secure when it comes to you. He tries, trust me, but he's terrified that if he seeks to lean on you, you're going to see it as a weakness and think less of him. He's afraid to show you what's really inside him, because he's certain you'll run the other way as fast as you can and never let him see his children."

"I would never do that to him."

"He doesn't believe that. Now before you get all pissed off again, listen to me. Alex, his experiences in life are very different from yours. His life has always lacked security and he has never known unconditional love. He doesn't know what to do with it and he can't simply accept it. Give it? Yes. But he can't take it. In his experience, virtually everyone important to him has left. Not counting the children, there are three people in his life who have stayed, so far. I'm one, you're another and Denise is the third. I have proven to him that I'm in it for the long haul, that he can count on me for anything. He knows I'll always back him, even though that irritates the hell out of you. For whatever reason, and I never try to get into his head, he never questions my loyalty."

"Haven't I proven myself to him?"

"His relationship with you has always been complicated. He felt betrayed when you got married, even though it wasn't rational. He tried to explain it to me the night of the wedding, but he didn't make much sense to me. Of course, he wasn't making much sense about anything that night. Now that I know him better, I understand. Over the course of your marriage, he didn't do very well. Maggie made his life better, but he still struggled. You have no idea what went on when you weren't around. He drank a lot, and he went through a lot of one night stands. Sometimes, when he was particularly troubled, he sought other ways to find some semblance of peace. It wasn't easy being his friend back then. I tried every way I knew to help him, but I don't know how effective I really was. The important thing was that I was there. I never judged him and I never let him down."

"Other ways? What other ways?"

Mike suddenly found the vacuum cleaner very interesting. He had hoped she wouldn't ask for details; he should have known better. "Unhealthy ways," he finally answered. "That's all I'm gonna say about it."

His answer increased her irritation, but she didn't press it. "Confidence was one thing he was never lacking, and I don't understand his insecurity with me."

"Your relationship is very passionate, which is good and bad. In bed, it's great. In an argument, not so much. He's afraid that he's going to push too hard one of these days and you'll be done with him."

She sat there quietly, thinking about what he said. "How can he doubt me when I stayed with Ricky and he was such an ass?"

Mike smiled. "He doesn't think he's so much better than Ricky."

"What? Please tell me you're kidding."

"I wish I was. I've been trying to change his mind for years, but he insists he has as much potential to be an ass as Ricky did."

She made an impatient noise. "Yes, but he's an entirely different kind of ass. I can handle having Bobby around. Besides, his good qualities far outweigh his bad ones."

"Yeah, I've been trying to tell him that, too. He says it's different with me because I'm not a woman."

She shook her head. "What about Denise?"

Here was where it all got touchy. He thought carefully about what he had to say before he began speaking. "Denise is as unique to his life as you are. He fell in love with you, hook, line and sinker. He fathered your children and made you his wife. He's happy with you. Sometimes I think he seeks out fights with you because he sees it as proof that you care. Today, I don't think that was the case, but most of the time, he finds you a challenge, and you know how he is about that. His relationship with Denise has always been very different. I don't think he's ever had a fight with her. She doesn't have your fire, and it's that fire that drew him to you to begin with. Denise is the most amicable person I have ever known, but Bobby would never thrive in a peaceful relationship."

"He _proposed_ to her, Mike."

"He did, because he was tired of being alone and he thought you were lost to him. And if you remember, she turned him down. She wouldn't settle for number two, and with him, she was. She seemed to know that someday you would be free, and that would put him in a terrible spot because he was so crazy for you. She never wanted him to do something he would later regret, and she was afraid that was what would have happened. She is a perceptive woman and she always put him first. That was too bad because she would have been thrilled to have been his wife. Maybe things would have turned out differently for her. But I think she always knew she just wasn't right for him in any capacity beyond their friendship, which was exactly where he has always needed her to be."

"Suppose she had married him? What do you think would have happened after my divorce?"

Slowly, Mike shook his head. "I honestly don't know. As stubborn as he was about not interfering with your marriage, even after Ricky was arrested, until your divorce was final, I can only think that it would have been the same with his own marriage. But it would have torn him apart, especially after he found out that Maggie was his." He was quiet as he considered her question a little more. "Between you and me, I think that Denise would have asked him for a divorce, so he could be free to be with you."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because she loves him and she never sought to possess him. She's a special woman, and they always had a special friendship."

"Would he have given it to her? I don't see him as a man who would jump from marriage to marriage. Once he made a commitment to her, I think he would have honored it."

Mike gave her an odd look. "So why do you think he's any less committed to you? Alex, he wasn't lying to you when he said he hasn't slept with her since your divorce."

"But...I don't understand him! He was with her the night before the final hearing!"

"Because he still couldn't be with you. If he hadn't turned to her, he'd have picked someone up. Believe me, Denise was the better, safer option."

"What do you mean?"

Mike rubbed his hand over his hair. "I mean...he prefers experienced women. He was always careful but not incredibly picky until he took up with Denise again full time and quit sleeping around. He did that for Maggie, and it was good for him, too. It sure did my ulcers a favor."

She fussed with Harry's pillow, fluffing it and flipping it over to focus away from Mike for a minute. "What do I do? It seems the only way I can ever get through to him is by fighting with him. My anger is the only thing he responds to."

"That's not entirely true. I've seen you get him into a state where he would have brought the Statue of Liberty home in his back pocket if you'd asked him."

She laughed. She couldn't help it. "But that's not always a convenient method of persuasion, not with four kids running around."

"I'm here."

"Okay, five kids."

It was his turn to laugh. "What I mean is, I can always distract them so you can, uhm, deal with him."

She smiled. "It would be nice if I didn't have to use sex to get what I want from him."

"There are worse ways to cope. When your arsenal's limited, you don't really have the luxury of choice. Would you rather fight with him or love him?"

"What I mean is it would be nice if we could discuss something before it gets out of hand and leads to a fight."

"Maybe that's not going to happen between you. You seem to communicate through passion."

"He talks to you."

"Yeah, but my relationship with him is very different than yours. He doesn't usually pick fights with me because I'll deck him. You end up in bed with him. I ain't goin' there."

Another laugh. "You'd better not."

"No worries, sweetheart. He's not my type."

She rose from the bed and stepped up to him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. The uncharacteristic gesture caught him by surprise, but he returned the hug. "Thank you, Mike," she whispered.

He kissed the top of her head. "Don't give me more credit than I deserve. I remember what it was like, trying to keep him in one piece back then. I never want to go back there, believe me. I much prefer knowing he's up here in bed with you than God knows where doing God knows what with God knows who."

"Was it that bad?"

"Honey, you have no idea." He stepped away. "Are you done being mad at him now?"

"No, but I'm ready to talk."

"You do know that _he_ might not be ready for that."

"I wasn't either when you came into the room."

He sighed. "You know, Lennie is rolling over in his grave, laughing his ass off right about now. In his wildest dreams, he never imagined me being the peacekeeper or the voice of reason for anyone. Of course, he never had to handle Goren. It might take me awhile to find him. I have no clue where he might have gone. And Carolyn is going to be here soon, I'm sure."

"I'll tell her I sent you to run an errand."

"I appreciate that. You have a bigger task than dealing with Carolyn, though. You have Maggie."

"What's wrong with Maggie?"

"She has her father's sensitive nature. She knows something is wrong. She barely touched her breakfast and she begged me to find him and keep him safe until you aren't mad at him any more."

Alex deflated some. "I always forget how sensitive she is to him."

He watched her wrap the cord around the vacuum. "Have you tried to call him?"

"No."

"Would you?"

She finished with the vacuum before she pulled her phone from her pocket and called her husband. She shook her head. "It goes right to voicemail."

"Naturally. Okay, I'm off then. I'll see you...sometime, I hope. It's a big city and he's at home here, no matter where he goes. But I can guarantee he's not sitting at the Ritz Carlton."

"Thank you, Mike. Honestly, I don't know what we would do without you."

He waved his hand as he walked to the door. "He keeps me out of trouble. I'll call you."

She watched him leave then dragged the machine to its place in the hall closet. It took her some minutes to gear herself up for a talk with Maggie. It always did.

* * *

Alex found Maggie in the family room, brushing Zeus with a hairbrush. She made an effort not to correct her immediately, though Maggie knew she was supposed to brush the puppy outside and Zeus had his own brush. She sat down near the little girl. "You didn't eat your breakfast."

"I wasn' hungry."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "I jus' wasn'."

"Maggie, talk to me."

She continued to brush the puppy as words and questions scrambled around inside her head. She sorted through them as her mother waited. "You don' like D'nise, do you, Mommy?"

"What makes you think that?"

"You was really mad at Daddy this mornin' and I think it was b'cause of D'nise."

"Why?"

"You an' Daddy was fightin' outside when I waked up. I heared it. You was fightin' 'bout D'nise."

_Oh, God..._ "It's not as simple as liking or not liking her."

"Did Daddy do somethin' wrong? Is it his fault D'nise is goin' to Heaven?"

"What? No. Not at all. Why would you even think that?"

Maggie finally looked up at her mother. Tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill over at any minute. "Why else would you be mad? Did Daddy hurt D'nise?"

"Oh, God, baby, of course not. Denise is very special to Daddy. That's why he spends so much time there. I just think he needs to spend a little more time at home."

"Is she the one you don' wanna share him with?"

"Yes, but it has nothing to do with her being sick."

Maggie was confused. "Is Daddy mad b'cause he's gotta share you with us?"

"No, no, not at all. Daddy loves you very much. You know that, Maggie."

"But he said..."

Alex reached out as tears rolled down Maggie's cheeks. She must have seen the whole fight. Maggie scrambled into her mother's arms, crying. Zeus jumped up and stretched toward her to lick the tears from her face. Alex held her and stroked her hair. "Shhh, don't cry. I promise you, he didn't mean anything by what he said, and neither did I. Sometimes, when big people fight, they say things they don't mean."

"Why?"

"Sometimes, when we're angry, we lash out and say things to hurt each other."

"But you love each other, don' you?"

"Yes, of course we do. Nothing will ever change that."

"I don' unnerstand."

"You don't have to. It's a big person thing."

"Will Daddy ever come home?"

"Yes, of course he will."

"Will you let him stay?"

"Of course. Maggie, you've seen us argue before. We'll get past it, I promise."

"And what about D'nise?"

"What about her?"

She sat back to look at her mother, who gently wiped the tears and puppy spit from her round cherubic face. Maggie gathered herself and took a quick, deep breath. "Heaven is waitin' for her, Mommy. Then she won't be here no more for Daddy to spend time with. If he doesn' see her now, then what? He can' visit her in Heaven."

Her words drove home a very important point for Alex, one her anger had not allowed Bobby to make that morning. Soon, all he would have of Denise would be another grave to visit. Was she being the selfish one? After all, she had years left with him. Was he capable of dismissing the intimacy he had shared with Denise for so long, an intimacy that had been the core of their friendship for more than two decades? She knew he still had deep feelings for Denise, but did those feelings truly rival what he felt for her? Just because Denise was no longer capable of the physical act did not diminish the bond of love that existed between them, no matter how often Bobby tried to deny that it was there.

"When Daddy comes home, we'll talk about it, okay?"

"Without bein' mad?"

"I'll try."

Maggie seemed satisfied. "Do you need a coach?"

"A coach?"

"Yeah, to keep you from getting mad."

"A coach...honey, I think you mean a referee."

"Okay, then, a refree."

Alex laughed and hugged the little girl. "No, I don't think we need a referee. And if we do, I think Uncle Mike can handle the job."

She gave that some thought. "I guess he can. But he can call me if he needs he'p."

"I'll let him know. Now go get the downstairs vacuum cleaner and clean up all that puppy hair. You know that you're supposed to brush Zeus outside—" She held up the brush Maggie had been using. "—and he has his own brush, little girl."

Maggie gave her a look she had never seen from her before, but Bobby had a look just like it. It said _I know that; I was making a point._ This child had always been so very good. Was it possible that there were storm clouds of adolescence gathering on the far horizon that would continue to build for the next seven years? Maybe Maggie wasn't going to remain such an angel once puberty reared its unwelcome head.

* * *

The sun had long set when Mike parked his car in the empty parking lot at Canarsie Pier. He'd been there twice, but the third time proved to be a charm. He knew that Bobby heard him approach. He saw it in the subtle stiffening of his shoulders. There was a six pack of beer beside a six pack of empties next to him and a pack of cigarettes was propped among the full bottles. Bobby didn't turn to face him. One leg dangled off the end of the pier while his other foot was flat on the wood. His arm rested on his knee, a cigarette dangling casually between two fingers. His hair was disheveled and matted with blood on one side; there was blood on his shirt. He took a deep drag of his cigarette. "She send you here?" he asked finally.

"Yes and no. I've been looking for you since before lunch. Where have you been?"

"Here and there."

"Come on, man. Don't feed me a bullshit line. I deserve better than that from you."

Bobby still didn't look at him. "Life is hard, Mike. I don't know what I can handle any more. Seeing John in that hospital bed..."

"I know. You told me."

"Denise is in hospice now, did I tell you that?"

"No. When?"

"This past week. They're giving her maybe eight weeks before they have to take the baby and let her...let her go. She doesn't even have good pain control. They can't keep her comfortable. Tomorrow, the night nursing starts. She'll always have a nurse."

"I thought she was still working."

"She collapsed at work Monday. She won't be back."

"So that's why you took off at lunchtime and got back so late. Why the hell didn't you tell us?"

"Us? Alex doesn't want to be bothered with it. Every time I mention Denise's name she gets that...look on her face, so I don't talk about her any more. She doesn't want to hear it."

"And you still thought she was okay with you seeing her?"

"No. I'm not stupid. But I took advantage of what she said so I _could_ see Denise. It was a stupid thing to do, trusting her word when I knew better, but I was desperate. She doesn't have much time left."

Mike sat down on the dock beside him and took a beer. "Why didn't you tell _me_? I'm your partner and I like Denise."

"You have enough going on, fighting with Carolyn over custody. I can stand on my own two feet."

"Yeah, until the world tips onto its side and knocks you over. Then what?"

Bobby shrugged again. "Then I get bruised and I dust myself off and keep going."

"Uh huh. I've seen how well that works for you. And when it breaks you?"

"What the hell else am I supposed to do? If I try to spend time with Denise, I put my marriage in jeopardy. If I can't handle what life dishes out, I end up in trouble with Alex again. Seems I'm always in trouble with Alex. I only have so many ways to cope, and right now, there's more to cope with than I am capable of handling."

"That's why you went off on her like you did."

"I...I shouldn't have, but...oh, fuck it."

Mike could see the defeat in every line of Bobby's body. He was giving up, and Mike didn't think that was what Alex wanted. She loved his fire as much as he loved hers. To see that fire extinguished would be a tragedy. "You could try talking to her, you know."

"That never works," he said bitterly. "She doesn't listen to me. She just gets mad."

He flipped his cigarette butt into the water and grabbed another beer. Mike touched his hand. "How many of those have you had?"

"Not enough. I still feel everything. I still hurt."

"Did you start with the beer?"

Bobby shook his head, but didn't elaborate. Mike asked, "What _else_ have you had?"

He finally shifted his eyes to meet Mike's. Mike didn't look away but he moved his hand so Bobby could open the beer. Bobby leaned against the post behind him and opened the beer. Then he grabbed his cigarettes, shook one out and lit it. Mike was getting flashbacks to the time he spent trying to save his friend from himself while Alex struggled to salvage a failing marriage that should never have been. The similarities made him very uncomfortable. Life was weighing heavily on Bobby. His beloved father-in-law was ill, one of his closest friends was dying and would leave her newborn child an orphan, and now his marriage to the woman he adored, just three years in and four children strong, was in trouble. Bobby wasn't the kind of man who could just shake things off and move on. He felt his pain very deeply and hung on to it. No wonder the guy was floundering.

Mike reached out and touched his friend's face to turn his head so he could see his injury. "What happened there?"

Goren raised his hand to touch the bloody wound. "I had a disagreement with someone, but I wasn't armed and he was."

"Armed with what?"

"A beer bottle."

"Hold still." He got to his knees and sifted through Goren's hair to examine the wound. "Good one. We'll stop by the ER so they can stitch it up."

"I'll live."

"Uh huh. You need stitches. Don't argue with me."

In silence, his attention now on the waters of Jamaica Bay, Bobby finished his beer. He lit another cigarette and opened another beer.

Mike left him to wander the winding corridors of his mind in peace for a long time. Then he said, "It's late. How 'bout we get you home, where you belong."

"Where I belong..." Bobby mused softly. "I don't really belong anywhere, Mike. I just...I don't fit in. I was never meant to be a family man, and I'm not much of a friend, either." He stretched his arm out over the water. "As big as the world is...there is just no place in it for me."

"You have a home, a family. That's where you belong. That's your place in the world."

"Alex is going to kill me."

"Maybe. Maybe not. You have to face the music sometime."

"Can't I just...fade away?"

"It's not gonna change anything if you do. John will still be in the hospital and Denise will still be dying. Your mom will still be gone and your kids will still be here. What _will_ change is life for those kids. It'll be like living without the sun."

"Work's gonna suck tomorrow."

"I already talked to Ross. Told him you had the flu."

"In August?"

"Stranger things have happened." He patted Bobby's shoulder. "C'mon. Let's get you fixed up and cleaned up. You have a family waiting."

Bobby finished his beer and tried to stand up. Mike grabbed him before he toppled into the water. "This way," he said, giving Bobby's shirt a yank. He grabbed the bottles and the cigarettes and followed him to the car.

As he unlocked the car, Mike warned, "If you throw up in my car, I swear I'll kick your ass."

"I'll try to remember that."

"Don't try. Just do it."

He dropped the empties into a garbage container and put the others in the trunk, stopping to text Alex. _Found him, finally. Will be home later. He's still in one piece, so don't worry._

Tossing the cigarettes at Bobby, he slid behind the wheel and started for home by way of the emergency room to get Bobby's head stitched up.


	6. A Wall Cloud Looms On the Horizon

**A/N: Apologies for the delay-this was a difficult chapter to write. There has been much revision and there's a lot of emotion here. **

**Wall cloud: a large, lowering cloud formation (ominous) which often spawns tornadoes. Most strong tornadoes are born of wall cloud formations.**

* * *

Alex had just settled Molly back into her crib after her late night feeding when a knock softly sounded at the bedroom door. She covered the baby and went to the door. Mike stood in the hall, looking weary. "I did my job. He's home."

"Where is he?"

"Downstairs on the couch. It was enough of a chore getting him into the house. I was not about to try hauling his ass up the stairs."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Aside from a head injury, your guess is as good as mine. Alex, he's all kinds of messed up right now, in his body and in his head." He started to say more but stopped. "You know how he gets."

"Head injury? How did he get that?"

"He got in a fight and some guy cracked him on the head with a glass bottle. He's lucky no one called the cops. Ross would have roasted him."

"Should I go down there?"

"For what? He's out of it. We stopped in at the emergency room on the way home. While the doctor put twenty-five stitches in his head, I checked on John, who is resting comfortably. By the time I got back, they'd knocked him out for being difficult. He started coming around as the doctor finished. By the time I got him home, he was mostly out of it again. So I manhandled him into the house and dropped him on the couch. He'll be good for at least twelve hours, I'd guess. Doctor said he had one helluva concussion."

Alex leaned her head against the door frame. "Where did you find him?"

"Canarsie Pier. I don't know how much he had to drink or what else he took, but he's in rough shape."

She scowled. "What do you mean, what else he took?"

"Exactly what I said. His BAC wasn't that high. He's got more than booze in him."

"I'm going to kill him."

"He's gonna end up doing that himself one way or another if he doesn't get a handle on his life."

She moved past him into the hall and he grabbed her arm. "Listen to me," he said firmly, a stance he rarely took with her. "There's a lot more going on with him than you know. Cut him some serious slack or you're gonna lose him."

"Explain, Logan," she demanded, hiding her fear behind arrogance.

He pulled her back into the bedroom and closed the door. "I know you don't give a damn," he said, speaking softly to avoid being overheard by little ears. "But Denise only has weeks left. They're going to take the baby soon and then she's going to die. Remember when he took off at lunchtime on Monday? Well, she collapsed at her desk and the chief called him. They put her in hospice, Alex, and they can't even make her comfortable. She's an incubator now, struggling to hold on so her baby will have a chance. She won't make it to term. Once that baby is born, they'll keep her comfortable until the end, but there's a whole lot of suffering in store for her between now and then. And that's just one thing he's dealing with. Your father's heart attack hit him hard, but he didn't want you to see that because it hit you hard, too. He wanted to comfort you, but you pushed him away, or did you forget that? You wouldn't let him get near you, and he felt that rejection hard, too. He feels everything more strongly, especially when it involves you. On top of all that, the best part of his life—his marriage to you—is on the rocks. How much more do you expect him to take? He can't cope with his life right now and no one seems willing to help him but me."

Her face revealed a complex mix of emotions. "Why didn't you tell me about Denise?"

"I didn't know; he didn't tell me. He's been trying to handle it on his own. He didn't want to bother me with it because of my problems with Carolyn, and if his head hadn't already been bleeding, I would have smacked him on it." He paused, then went on. "Alex, you really don't seem to understand how important to him you are. Without you on his side through all of this, he's not likely to come out of it intact. Things were rough when you were with Ricky, but if he thinks he's losing you now, he knows it's gonna be for good. Then...well, all he's got is me."

"What about the kids?"

"You know how he is. If his world caves in around him, he'll withdraw for awhile. He'll go someplace really dark to lick his wounds. He'll come back because of the children, but he won't be the same man. Maybe the little ones and Harry won't notice, but you can bet the farm that Maggie will." He studied her for a moment, but he couldn't read her. "He's on the edge, Alex, and there's only two ways he can go. You can do one of two things: pull him back or push him over. How this all turns out is up to you."

He pulled the door open and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. She stood there for a long time, thinking seriously about everything Mike had said. Mike had always been cautious around her, unwilling to raise her temper—a fear Bobby seemed to have lost recently. Lately, however, he threw caution to the wind for Bobby's sake. Bobby _talked_ to Mike, and she had always resented that, but their friendship was something she could never hope to touch. It had been forged through a complicated series of events, and it was unbreakable. Her relationship with Bobby had never had a birth of fire. Rather than being forged, it had evolved over time into something complicated and stormy, full of fire and passion. A lesser woman would have given up on him long ago, but God help her, she loved him. She lost her heart to him and there was nothing she could do about that. She left the bedroom and went downstairs.

Mike had been right: he was out for the count. She studied him. He had a bloody bandage on the left side of his head and his face was bruised and scratched. His shirt was also covered with now-dried blood. She reached out and gently tugged on a wayward curl.

_He's got more than booze in him. _Mike's words tied a knot in her stomach. Life with Bobby was a real roller coaster, though it wasn't entirely his fault. She had to decide if the ride was worth it and her decision had to be the right one. If she made a mistake now, there would be no way to go back and fix it. She needed time to think, to decide if the joy and the pleasure he brought to her life outweighed the grief and the pain. Right then and there, she just didn't know.

* * *

He woke slowly, gradually becoming more aware of pain in his abused body. He felt a weight on his chest and, thinking one of the children must have come to sleep with him, he moved his arm to cradle the small body. But there was no child there. Confused, he slowly sat up. The pressure subsided. Pressing a hand to his throbbing temple, he forgot about the momentary discomfort. The house was dark and quiet. He rose unsteadily and went into the kitchen. After drinking two glasses of water, he took two pain killers and returned to the couch. His mind was too blurry for him to think, and he went back to sleep.

* * *

When he woke again, the gray of twilight filled the quiet house. Moving slowly, he sat up and pushed his hand through graying curls, damp with sweat and blood. He winced when his fingers grazed the wound on his head, making his headache worse, and he frowned, wondering what had caused the wound. Rising, still unsteady, he made his way to the bathroom, which was next to the door that led to the basement, where his children once hid from Martin Gomez.

He took care of business, then rinsed his head with cold water. Bracing his hands on the sink, he hung his head, eyes closed. With effort, he forced his eyes open, surprised to see blood mingling with the water that dripped from his hair. He continued to pour water over his head until it ran clear. After rubbing a towel over his still-throbbing head, he left the bathroom. His stomach growled, but the thought of food made him nauseous. He decided against finding something to eat, opting for water instead. Returning to the couch, he laid back down, closed his eyes and the darkness became total.

* * *

Tuesday night, Alex pulled the car into the driveway of her home and got out. Mike pulled in behind her and joined her at the side of the driveway. She had decided to leave the children with her sister so that she and Bobby could talk, and she also decided that it would be best for them both if Mike was there. Although he was the person closest to Bobby, Alex trusted him to help keep tempers from flaring on both sides.

The house was dark and quiet. Not even the television was on. She looked at Mike. "Are you sure he was okay when you left this morning?"

"He was alive and still sleeping, if that's what you mean. 'Okay' is a relative term."

"Did you try to wake him?"

"I did, and he woke up and talked to me, but he wasn't all there. All I got out of him was that his head hurt."

She had made the difficult decision to stay at her father's empty home with the children and Zeus. Bobby needed time to recover, and Mike stayed with him, so he hadn't been alone, except when Mike was working. She would not come home until after she talked to him. She was willing to work things out, so as far as she was concerned, the fate of their marriage rested with him. If he couldn't meet her halfway, then she would not come back. She didn't deny that they had issues to work through, but he had to be willing to work on them as well. She did not doubt that he loved her, but sometimes, love just wasn't enough. This time, though, she hoped it would be.

Entering the silent house, she flipped on the living room light. The room was empty. She went into the kitchen, returning right away. "It doesn't look like he's eaten. There's a glass in the sink, but I think he only used it for water."

They went upstairs, and Mike pushed open the bedroom door. Bobby lay on his side, back toward them, sleeping. "So, which one of us should wake him up?" she asked.

"That depends. Are you going to wake him up with a bat?"

She smirked and shook her head. "Just...stay there."

She walked over to the bed and looked down at the sleeping form of the man she loved. The sheet was gathered at his waist, revealing his strong, bare back. Looking at the scars that marred his skin, she was reminded of how different his life had been from hers. She became a cop because it was her legacy, because she had grown up adoring and hero-worshiping her father, much the way Maggie was with Bobby. Being a cop was the only career that made sense to her. But Bobby...being a cop was the one career that _didn't_ make sense. They should be facing off from opposite sides of the law, not the bedroom. Too often, she forgot what a remarkable man he really was.

She sat down on the bed and lightly stroked his hair. To her relief, he stirred.

Slowly rolling onto his back, he looked up at her sleepily. His expression was wary but relieved. "You're home," he murmured.

"I do live here," she replied lightly.

"I...I wasn't sure anymore."

She shifted closer and laid a hand gently on his chest. After a moment, she fingered the three days' growth of whiskers on his chin. "What are we going to do?" she asked.

"You tell me."

"No, Bobby. It's not that easy. You defer to me too often, and that causes problems. A marriage is a partnership, just like our police partnership was. Equal input, equal credit. Do you remember how it worked? Even when you were way ahead of me, you always stopped to let me catch up. And when the time came to enter that interrogation room, we were both on the same page, united, together. Our marriage has to work the same way. You _have_ _to_ talk to me. I can't read your mind, and I'm not a profiler. I'm no good at guessing games, either. If you can't communicate with me, then this partnership is going to fall apart. Something has to change."

He had not reached out to touch her at all, and that had her worried. He thrived on physical contact, but he was withdrawn from her. She couldn't tell his state of mind.

He was quiet as he considered her words. He didn't doubt that she was right. What he doubted was his ability to change the patterns of his life. "I...I'm still new to this," he said. "I have never had to share my life before, not like this."

"You've had girlfriends before," she said reasonably.

"I have. But they had their lives and I had mine, and I never really let them into mine. So they never lasted. You know that. I...I don't do well in relationships. That's why I remained single until I married you."

She braced herself and forged ahead. "You could have married Denise."

He shook his head. "She said no," he muttered.

She could not interpret his tone, and she wondered if he regretted her refusal. She decided to poke him a little. "So you're stuck with your second choice?"

He frowned. "Second choice? No, Alex. Never...never think that. I never had a second choice. You were not available when I asked her, but if she'd said yes to me, that would have been it until I buried her. I...I'm not my father. Once I committed myself to one woman, that was it. I don't play that game. I could never be unfaithful."

"You may not do well in relationships, but there are two very notable exceptions."

"You and Denise."

"Exactly. And she was first. I guess, in some ways, I feel like I'm on her turf, and I don't like feeling that way. But you were hers first...and you've been hers for a very long time. In some ways, you still are."

He wasn't sure how he felt about what she said. He never thought of himself as belonging to anyone but her. He had never tried to analyze his relationships with her and Denise, and he had certainly never compared them. To him, they were apples and oranges, completely unrelated and distinct from each other. "It-It's different. You're different. With her, I always had love and friendship, but with you...with you I have passion, too. My world is very different with you in it, and I like it that way. I like the challenge, the stimulation. My life would be incomplete without you."

"So then why do you push me away?"

"I...I don't...I don't mean to. But when I'm troubled, I have to work things out in my head before I can even think about approaching someone else."

"What about Logan?"

"What about him?"

"You confide in him."

He felt his anger rise and he sat up, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed. "Are you going to use every relationship in my life against me? I never dated Mike, so why is he even an issue?"

"Because you let him in further than anyone else!"

"So I'm wrong for having a friend I can confide in? Why? Because he's not you?"

He got up and began to pace, angry and agitated. She looked toward the door where Mike stood. He was watching Bobby. Bobby finally stopped and turned toward her. "I can't live in a bubble. I love you and the kids very much, but my life has to have more or it has no real purpose. I need the job, and I need a friend who's not going to judge me, who will _listen_ to me when I need to talk. I don't need a friend who will bail me out of jail, Alex. I need a friend who'll be in that cell next to me, just as beat up and drunk as I am."

She had to admit that he had a point. Without Mike, she would have lost him years ago. It was a debt to which she owed him, though she hated to admit it. "My father had a heart attack Saturday night. You should have stayed with me, but you didn't. Did you take off to be with her?"

He stopped pacing. "Her? Are you really going to make this about Denise? Alex, I left because you _told_ me to leave."

She frowned. "I did not."

"Yes, you did."

"Maybe you misunderstood."

"I admit I sometimes have trouble communicating with you, but I understand English. You said 'get lost.' When I tried to say something else, you told me to shut up and leave you alone, that you didn't need me or want me there. I did what you told me to do, and I got in trouble anyway. Why do you do that to me? I can't win no matter what I do."

"Bobby...I...I don't remember any of that. The whole night is a blur. The only thing I really remember is...is Dad, laying in that bed, looking so pale...so..._vulnerable_. I was so...so shocked. I had no idea he wasn't feeling well. He never said a word when I dropped the kids off."

"He wouldn't tell you," he said.

He was right. Her father never showed weakness to anyone. He was always a pillar of strength. When her mother died, no one saw him shed a tear. He grieved in private. People, even his children, only ever saw what John Eames wanted them to see. Bobby was much like him in that regard. The world saw only what Bobby Goren wanted it to see, with just one exception: Mike Logan. Mike alone was allowed into Bobby's private world without censorship, and therein lay one of the fundamental problems of his relationship with his wife: he never let her in that far. He was afraid to, afraid that she would be scared off by what she found. She struggled to accept the fact that he would only let her in so far. It was something he would likely never get past, and she would have to come to terms with it. Eventually, she would accept it as part of being with him, but it was going to take time. She would not argue about it now.

"What did you do after you left the hospital?

He shrugged. "I ended up in Canarsie. I always seem to go back there when I'm most troubled, out onto the pier, by the water, so I can think."

"Why?"

"I don't know. It's always been a place where I could go to find myself when I was feeling lost. At night, I could be alone there and think, sort through things. The water...calms me. It clears my head."

"Even after you try to drink the bar dry?"

He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Mike found you back out at the pier Sunday night, and you were in pretty bad shape. It's taken you two days to come out of this one."

"That wasn't because I was drinking. I didn't really drink as much as I have in the past. I spent more time thinking than I spent at any bar. I had a couple of shots and a few beers. Then I went to the pier and had another seven or eight beers over several hours, but...that really wasn't all that much for me."

"Are you sure about that?"

"That's what I remember."

"Mike said you had more than just alcohol in you. Was he right?"

He paused, giving her a hard look. "He knows me well enough to know."

She took that as a 'yes.' "What else did you take?"

He shrugged. "Something that should have deadened the pain, but didn't."

"Cocaine? Heroin?"

He made a noise of contempt. "Of course not. I've never taken heroin and coke is a stimulant. I have enough stimulation. Sometimes I need to...slow things down. I just...I had a couple of joints and a few of the pills I already have."

She stared at him for a moment. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"Why would I do that? I...I was overwhelmed, with Denise so sick and your dad's heart attack and you being so angry at me again..."

"Wait a minute...Bobby, I wasn't angry until you didn't come home."

He looked confused. "But...after we went upstairs with your dad...you...you _were_ angry. I wanted to...to hold you, but once we left the waiting room, you wouldn't let me near you. You didn't want me around, so I had to leave." He studied her face. "You wouldn't show any weakness in front of your father. I represent weakness, so you shut me out entirely."

She watched him walk to the window and look out over the backyard, his back to her, and she let him go for the moment. Her quick temper and his sensitivity were two of their biggest problems. Bobby was extremely sensitive to her moods and easily hurt by her sharp tongue. Once hurt, he shut down and she had to work to draw him back out. Lately, though, he had been allowing his temper to seep through. Their fights became more intense, but it was easier to work through their problems when he participated in the effort. His tendency was simply to give in to her and let her have her way, and, while she naturally preferred that, it did nothing to help them resolve their issues. But his manner when he gave in to her was beginning to change. She saw more irritation in him, less blind compliance. She sensed unrest in him as well, and she realized that it was time for her to give in to him once in a while, even though she was reluctant to relinquish having the upper hand in their relationship.

And that brought her musing around to Denise. She just wasn't sure what to do about her. Maggie had been right: heaven was waiting for her, and Bobby could no longer visit her in heaven. If she forbade him to see her, that would be a mistake she would never be able to correct...and it would be something for which he would never forgive her. Would he honor such a request? She believed he would. Would he resent it? Absolutely. She could not identify exactly what made her uncomfortable. Was it really the lifelong friendship he'd shared with her, or was it the nature of that friendship? Three years of celibacy from her was nothing when compared with more than two decades of love, however else he chose to define it. If she wanted to be honest with herself, she could admit that she was jealous of Denise. She'd had all those years with Bobby, and it wasn't a falling out that was going to end it. He rarely, if ever, had any contact with any of his old girlfriends. His breaks with them had been complete. His relationship with Denise, however, had never been broken. It had evolved. But how could she discuss it with him? She saw how well that worked; it always followed the same pattern. He would swear to her that he wasn't sleeping with Denise a second before he turned defensive and shut down. He didn't seem to get that sex was not the issue. It was like butting heads with a rhino. Whatever she decided, though, it would have to be soon. Denise would be gone before any of them knew it.

"Bobby?"

Her tone was gentle, and he responded to it. "What?" he answered, but he didn't turn from the window.

"How did it happen?"

That question snagged his interest and he turned toward her. "How did what happen?"

"How the hell did you fall in love with me?"

"I'm really not sure," he said softly. "It's like...one day, we were just partners, and I never thought of you as anything more. I never expected you to be anything more. And then...then you got engaged, and I suddenly realized..." A look of shame crossed his face. "I realized that what I felt for you was more than the partnership. But...it was too late. You got married, and it seemed like...suddenly, everything changed. It was torture, and I can't explain why I never realized it before then. Maybe it was fear that masked the love...because I never imagined you could love me the same way. Looking back, I've tried to find any signs at all that I felt more for you than I thought, but...I can't find any. It hit me like a sledgehammer, and it left me breathless and floundering...for a very long time. I don't know when I fell for you, but I did, fast and hard."

"Are you sorry you did?"

"In a lot of ways, my life would have been simpler if I hadn't, but no, I'm not sorry. You are the best thing to ever happen to my life."

"So why are you trying to drive me away?"

"I'm not. I'm...I'm trying to find my own way...and not doing a very good job of it."

"All you have to do is ask..."

He shook his head. "It's not that easy. This is something I have to do on my own."

"And if you can't?"

"That's not an option. I have to do it."

She didn't doubt his sincerity, but she questioned the truth in his words. He simply did not seem to be happy of late. Was his life still so tied up in his old lover that he could not find true happiness in her absence? Alex was not sure his love for her was strong enough to carry him through his loss on its own. He was trying to prepare, but could any person truly prepare for the untimely loss of a loved one? Bobby, in particular, did not handle loss well at all, and Alex had no idea how to help him, if she even could. Her father would not live forever, she admitted with reluctance, but Denise should still have at least another thirty years before her.

She also doubted his ability to be that much in touch with the part of himself he kept so deeply buried, so protected. She wanted to be with him, to help him as much as he would let her, but she had concerns beyond their relationship that needed to be considered. She had the children to keep in mind, and they needed her, especially if their father couldn't be available to them. She had to shield them from his demons. "Okay, then," she said as she moved toward the door. "Call me when you get yourself figured out."

"You're not coming home?"

She hesitated, hating herself for the answer she had to give him. "No. Not yet."

"But... Alex..."

She could see the panic building in him, and that made it so much more difficult to stand firm on her decision. "Bobby, something has to change. We can't go on like this. Every time life gets out of hand for you, you withdraw into yourself and shut down. I know I have a quick temper, but you know that as well. We need to talk things through before misunderstandings happen." She paused, watching his face. He averted his eyes, looking at the floor, and she knew he was feeling chastised, but she did not reach out to him. "Your chosen coping mechanisms are not healthy. I realize that it's in your nature to fall back on what has worked for you in the past, but now that's just causing more problems. It isn't healthy for you and it upsets the rest of the family. Maybe you should think about seeing someone who can give you better options."

She watched him bristle at the suggestion, but he didn't verbally object. Bracing herself, she went on. "I talked to Ross this afternoon. There are no new cases pending at the moment, so he's given you and Mike the rest of the week off, so that you can work through what you're feeling and get your act together. I'm going to let Maggie stay with you, but I am going to stay at Dad's with the rest of the kids. They're talking about sending him home this weekend, so I'll see what happens then, but I need a couple of things to happen before I come home with Harry and the little ones."

His expression had become unreadable. "Like what?" he asked cautiously.

Bracing herself for his reaction, she said, "First, I need you to stop drinking. When you go out with Mike or we go to dinner, that's one thing. But when you drink to cope with your emotions, that's something else entirely. And the drugs...that has to stop, too."

Finally, he reacted. Raising his hand, he shook his head. "Hold on. The pot, that was a one time thing. It's been a couple of years since I've done that, but the pain medicine...I still need that sometimes."

"Your knee?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Then you need to go back to the doctor."

"Alex..."

"I'm not kidding, Bobby. You have to take better care of yourself. I do not want to bury another husband before his time."

She watched him stare at the floor, but he didn't say anything. She wanted some kind of reaction from him, even if it was just an acknowledgment that he agreed with her. She was doing this for his well-being after all.

Without saying anything more, he turned away from her toward the window. He didn't know what to do. She was supposed to make him happy, but he was as unhappy as he'd ever been. He was angry, restless, resentful...He wasn't sure exactly what marriage was supposed to be, but he was fairly certain this wasn't it. Maybe because she had spent so much of her past giving in to men, she decided it was time for one to give in to her. He was certainly the right man to choose, because he would give her the world and he asked for very little in return. But when she refused him the little he did ask for, he didn't feel that was fair.

He pressed his head against the wall beside the window. He'd been so sure she was the right one for him. Had he been so in love with her that he turned a blind eye to everything that was wrong? He'd done nothing but give her what she asked for. She had the children she'd always wanted so badly, a nice home, a job she loved with a partner she could work with...but it still wasn't enough. She had to control him—what he did, where he went, who he saw. He felt claustrophobic, like he had when he was little and his mother locked him in a closet. Was it worth it?

He closed his eyes. He was cursed. His life was no longer his own. It belonged to her for as long as she would have him. Maybe John had been right, years ago, when he told him that maybe he loved Alex too much. Maybe he did. But he wasn't sure he was prepared to lose her.

He heard her move, and he chased away his anger and resentment for the moment. "Alex?"

"What?" she forced herself to say as she stopped by the door.

"Tell me...tell me it's not over."

He was desperate for a reassurance she could not give him. She shook her head. "I can't."

She walked past Mike, stopping only to say, "I'll drop Maggie off on my way to work in the morning."

Then, she was gone.


	7. We Can Fix This

**A/N: I find it fascinating that readers are so divided, some siding with Alex and some with Bobby. Several of you have said that a good writer generates strong emotional reactions to a story, and I am humbled by such a huge compliment. Thank you all very much, and I do hope you will continue to read. If any of you derive a fraction of the enjoyment in reading that I get from writing, then I am a happy writer, indeed. Just to let you know, as a 'thank you' to my dear readers and in response to the distress I seem to have caused at the mere prospect of the failure of the marriage between Bobby and Alex, I plan to write a fluffy one-shot to smooth things over among us :-) It might take a little while because I am waiting for the inspiration for said tale, but watch for it.**

**I would also like to explain that I am a strong believer in the concept that we are not alone in our lives. We exist in a physical plane, but there are metaphysical worlds that intersect our own, planes of other existence. Some people are born sensitive to those other planes, like Melinda Gordon in _Ghost Whisperer_; others acquire that sensitivity through extraordinary events in their lives, like Eli James, also in _Ghost Whisperer_. That being said, I refer you to the _Choices_ story "Hurricane Winds," which was a cross-over with the series _House, MD_. Maggie meets Dr. House...delightful! If you'll recall, during the first chapter, Maggie crashed on the medical evacuation flight to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. It is from that event that the idea for the latter part of this chapter was hatched.**

**Enjoy, my friends!**

* * *

Alex opened the front door early the next morning, letting Zeus into the house ahead of her and Maggie. Ten seconds later, the cat scrambled up the stairs with the puppy in hot pursuit. Smiling, she followed Maggie into the living room, where the TV was on. Maggie scurried over to join him. He hugged his little girl and looked at Alex.

She stopped behind the couch and looked down at him. He seemed a little pale, and tired...no, more than tired. He was worn out. "I see you got your car."

"I couldn't leave it in Canarsie."

"How was your night?"

"Long."

"Did you sleep much?"

"No. Not at all, actually," he answered with a frown. "Why?"

"You look tired."

He wanted to snap at her, telling her that she had no business expressing concern at the moment, but he held his tongue. She looked around the room. "Where's Mike?"

"Upstairs. You didn't leave any specific instructions for him."

Before she could reply to his sarcasm, he kissed Maggie and got up from the couch, handing her the remote. "I'm going to walk Mommy to her car. I'll be right back."

"Okay, Daddy."

Alex gave Maggie a hug and kiss and walked out of the house with him. Once outside, he pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket and shook one out. She watched with disapproval as he lit it. "Don't," he warned when he saw her expression. "I realize it was an oversight on your list of things I can't do, but I don't have much else left."

"Bobby..."

"Please..." he paused to take a deep drag. "Look, I'll make this easy for you. Bring the kids home tonight. This is their home and they should be here. I'll go somewhere else."

"Where?"

His frown deepened. "You don't get to ask that, Alex. If we're apart, then we're apart."

"Maggie..."

"Maggie will stay here with you. If you're going to test me, then fucking test me. Don't send Maggie with me to make sure I behave. I won't let you do that. She's six and dammit, she's going to _be_ six."

"But what about..."

He waved his hand, interrupting her again. "I said, you don't get to ask. I'm tired of playing games. I'm not going to let you jerk me around like a puppet on strings. I thought...oh, never mind. You're going to be late."

"No," she snapped. "Tell me what you thought. You always do this—you start to talk and then back off. Don't worry about my reaction. Just tell me."

He finished his cigarette and dropped the butt into a coffee can hidden behind a wicker table and chairs. He didn't look at her, though, when he finally spoke. "I thought..." He paused, redirecting his thoughts toward a more complete explanation. "I never considered myself a marrying man. I'd come to terms with the fact that I would die a bachelor. Then...you came along, and over time, you turned my world upside down. Everything I had decided would never happen came about through you. You brought a passion to my life I had never felt before. You gave me love, children, a life I never deserved. I thought I was doing the right thing when I asked you to marry me."

"The right thing? Because of the children?"

"Well, yes...but mostly because I loved you. That was the big thing. I don't have to be married to be a good father. I figured that out long ago. But being a good husband? I thought I could manage that, but I found out the hard way that I have no idea how. I have nothing to work with. It's not the same as being partners, not really. At the end of the day, there's no going home. It's something that's always there, and I get so wrapped up in other things, I sometimes forget that. It's something that has to become part of me, but hasn't quite managed to do that yet." He rested his hands on the railing and leaned on them, looking across the front yard. "I'm not saying it never will. I...I guess I've always been a work in progress. It's just...It's so hard for me to...to become part of another person or to let her become part of me. I can't easily get past that; I can't fathom why you would ever _want_ to be a part of me."

"You don't make it easy, but that's something in life that you really don't have to understand, Bobby. It's something that you just accept on faith."

He sighed. "Faith is something I have always struggled with. Alex, I don't know how to...be any different. I was never meant to be a husband. Nothing in my life ever prepared me for that role, and I didn't realize that until it was too late. I'm so sorry about that. I've put you through so much, and all for nothing. I don't know how to make that up to you, if I ever can. I think you came into this relationship thinking you could change me. When it turned out to be much harder than you thought...I understand why you've given up, and I can't say I blame you. But you gave it a good try."

She frowned. "You're talking like it's over."

"Because it is. Come on, face reality. You can't build a marriage on sex and passion. It doesn't work that way. It never did. We were doomed from the start. I was just too damn stubborn to admit that it would never work. I never should have made marriage an option, and that was my own fault. I set us up for failure."

She felt a panic rise in her chest but she kept it under control. This was something she had not intended. She wanted him to realize what it meant to be a partner in a marriage; she had not intended for him to take it as a sign the marriage was over. It was a belief she did not share, but could she convince him of that? "So why did you propose?"

He thought about it. "I guess I thought marriage was something else. I thought that once you had the love, everything else would fall into place. I was wrong. It was stupid of me to think that. I guess I forgot to factor you into the equation."

"Is this what you did all night? Think about all the ways it doesn't work?"

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"No! Of course not! Why couldn't you put the effort into all the ways it _does_ work?"

Finally, he looked at her, his expression one of disbelief. "You wanted me to spend the night thinking about sex?"

His expression elicited a laugh from her...and it reminded her of one of the many reasons she fell for him. She gave him a tender smile and breathed a sigh that was half-exasperation and half total love. "Are you telling me that the only thing about our relationship that works is the sex?"

Her laughter and her expression confused him. He wasn't sure how to classify the conversation, but it no longer seemed to be an argument. "Can you tell me something else that does?"

_Start with the obvious_, she thought. "What about the children?"

"What about them?"

"Parenting is a joint venture, Bobby. I think we've been doing pretty well in raising our children."

"Uh-huh. That's why Harry is still so terrified of me."

Naturally he would focus on the one child who had not yet learned to totally adore him. "He's not. He had a late start in getting to know you, but he's come a long way. Give him time and he will adore you just as much as the other children do. But if you pull out now, Bobby, he might never warm up to you."

"Pull out? You're pushing me out!"

"See? This is what I mean. We don't communicate. Asking you to reevaluate your life is not pushing you out of this marriage. I am not criticizing you."

He looked baffled. "Sometimes I don't think we're having the same conversation."

Amused again, she tried to hide it this time, though it was so hard to hide anything from him. But her amusement turned quickly to concern as the sun cleared the trees and shone more fully on the porch. He _was_ pale, and sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip, although the day wasn't yet that warm. "Bobby, are you okay?"

"You're gonna be late for work. You'd better get going."

"Don't change the subject."

"Me? You're the one who just changed the subject."

She watched him for what seemed a long time, not surprised that he looked away under her scrutiny. "We can work this out," she said finally. "If we're both willing to put in the effort to change the way things are, we can save this marriage. It's not too late."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, looking down into the bushes that grew along the porch.

She was surprised by his tone. Rather than hopeful, it was...sad, resigned. Impulsively, she reached out to him, lightly rubbing his arm. "I'm positive."

"You don't want it to be over?"

She had never known a man so much in need of reassurance, especially when he felt things slipping away from him. No wonder he struggled for control. So often, he felt he had none. Again, she cursed his mother for depriving him of the security he should have felt growing up. He had never learned to feel secure in life. She lightly pulled on the hair that curled around his ear. _Time for a haircut_, she thought randomly before forcing her focus back to the issue at hand. "Of course not. Every couple has problems that have to be worked out. All we have to do is try a little harder. I'm not anxious to end it prematurely. I think there's still enough good between us to offset what's not right and turn it around...if you think it's still worth saving."

"I try, Alex. I've always tried."

"So why are you talking about giving up?"

"It just...it doesn't seem to be enough."

"Don't you think it's worth fighting for?"

He turned around and leaned back against the railing. "Since when does it matter what I think?"

Had he really spent so much time giving in to her that he honestly felt that his opinion did not matter? She stepped up to him and placed her hands on his chest. "You are so quick to give in to me. Maybe you should be more assertive. You have so much passion, but I'd like to see it outside the bedroom, too. Don't always give in and let me have my way. I promise you, I will not leave you just because I don't get my way all the time."

He looked surprised by that revelation. "But..." He struggled with himself for a minute, trying to find the right wording for what he wanted to say. Failing, he went with: "I don't like fighting with you."

"We don't have to fight. I'll work on my temper. We can tone the fighting down to spirited debates. But we have to work on it."

"What about everything else that's wrong?"

"One catastrophe at a time, okay?" She rested her hand on his cheek. "We have a lot of work to do, if we're both willing to put forth the effort, but honestly, I don't think our relationship is as wrong as you think it is."

He studied her face, once again checking to see if she was sincere. She seemed to be. "Do you mean that?"

"Absolutely. We'll talk about it tonight. Take it easy today, will you? You don't look so good right now."

"Don't worry about me. Take care of yourself."

She caressed his cheek, leaned up and gave him a soft kiss before she turned and walked away. He remained where he was and watched her leave. "And she wonders why I drink," he muttered to himself as he went into the house.

* * *

Maggie gripped Bobby's hand tightly. Hospitals made her uncomfortable; she'd never liked visiting them. There were smells and noises she'd never liked, people rushing around preoccupied, and there were other things, too. Things she began noticing when she was in the hospital where Dr. House worked; things she noticed more as she got older. For a long time, she didn't know how to classify what she saw. After all, there was light and darkness everywhere. But many things happened that most people couldn't see—things that were driven by light and darkness. She saw the angels who waited to take people to heaven and she saw _others_ waiting for the people who didn't get to go to heaven. The _others_ scared her. They were dark and blurry and...very, very _bad_.

She noticed that sometimes bad people were surrounded by darkness, like shadows that were not made by the light. She had seen it surrounding Harry's father, which made her even more scared of the man—and more glad that her parents and Your Other Honor made sure he could never be near Harry again. He had been a very bad man.

Maggie had never told her father that Gomez had spoken to her once. She'd been afraid that he would hunt the man down, and she didn't really want her beloved father being that close to the evil that surrounded Gomez. She had no way of knowing that his job brought him into contact with that kind of evil every day.

Usually Gomez talked to the older kids when the teachers weren't around. Every time Gomez showed up, one of the older kids got hurt on the playground, and while the teachers took care of the injured child, Gomez talked with some of the other kids at the far end of the playground. She had seen them exchange things with Gomez, but she never saw what they traded. She didn't understand what was happening, and she thought about discussing it with her father. He always had an explanation for the things she didn't understand. Ultimately, though, she decided against saying anything. Daddy had a lot on his mind and she didn't think it was worth upsetting him. She almost told Mommy and Uncle Mike, but decided that they had too much other stuff to worry about as well. After all, Gomez had never directly approached her.

Then, one day at lunchtime, a fight broke out among some of the older boys. While the teachers were distracted, Gomez appeared by the little kids' playground, near the fence line where Maggie was playing with Harry and Devon. Harry saw him coming and hurried away without saying anything. Harry often spontaneously ran off to be by himself, so it wasn't anything unusual. It wasn't until later, after she got to know Harry better, that Maggie realized why he did that—he was hiding from his father. At that time, though, Maggie didn't who the man was, so she had no more reason to be wary of him than of any stranger...until she saw the darkness that surrounded him like a halo. For the first time, Maggie felt real fear. "What's your name, little girl?" Gomez asked, trying to sound friendly.

Not answering, she backed away from the fence, grabbing Devon's hand and pulling him along with her. Devon didn't like him either, and he gripped her hand tightly. "Come here," the man said, motioning to her as he tried to look and sound friendly.

When she showed no sign of following his request, he held up something that he had been holding. "I have something for you. A present."

Something about the man set off a warning in Maggie's head, and she looked around for a teacher. Fortunately, Mr. Carreras was coming out of the building right then and she called to him. He came right over. "What is it, Maggie?" he asked, squatting beside her.

She turned to point toward Gomez, but he was gone, taking the darkness—and the fear and unrest she'd felt—with him. She told the teacher about the man, but there was nothing to be done since he was gone and she had no idea who he was. She promised she would tell him if Gomez showed up again, but she didn't see him again for a long time.

She got to know Harry better after that, but she didn't understand his fear of his father until she found out who his father was. Gomez was gone now, gone into the darkness where the _others_ had taken him. She didn't know where the darkness led, except that it went to a bad place for bad people, a place where Gomez deserved to be. It was the same place the mean lady must have gone to be, although she had gone there before Maggie was able to see the darkness and the _others_.

Her grip on Bobby's hand tightened whenever she saw the _others_ hovering in wait to claim a soul. There was a lot of darkness in the world and many souls for the _others_ to claim. Interspersed among the darkness, though, were the angels, also standing by to claim the souls for whom they waited. The angels radiated light and kindness. They waited for the good souls, to guide them on their final journey to heaven.

The angels ignored the darkness; it was too late to save those souls. The _others_ avoided the angels. But they all came together in hospitals and other places where many people died. Those were deeply unsettling places for her.

Bobby felt her unrest and he picked her up. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. He always made her feel better. In his arms, she always felt safe. No harm could come to her when he was close. She closed her eyes, but she knew the darkness was still out there. It never went away.

It wasn't the dark that she feared. She had never been afraid of the dark. What unsettled her most about the darkness and the _others_ were the feelings she got whenever they were close. They radiated negative emotion—fear, hate, rage. Good and evil balanced each other, as did the light and the darkness, for one could not exist without the other, but when good and evil were out of balance...that was when one or the other took over.

Bobby set her down when they got to John's room, but she grabbed his hand before he could knock. The angels were there, like they had been the day that Gramma died. Bobby looked down at her. "What's the matter, baby?"

"You should call Mommy."

"Why?"

"B'cause Grampa is gonna go with the angels soon, Daddy."

"What are you talking about?"

She'd never told him about the angels and the _others_. She hadn't really understood what they meant when Gramma died. But she understood them better now. "You should call Mommy," she repeated, insistent.

He gave her a funny look, and she knew they were going to have a talk later. But he showed her trust and he called her mother.

Bobby knew by her tone that she was annoyed when she answered the phone. He hesitated for a second before he spoke. "Uh, you should come over to the hospital, Alex."

"Why? How's Dad?"

"Just...you need to be here. Please."

She paused, but there was no change in her tone when she spoke. "Bobby, I don't have time for games."

"This isn't a game. Make time."

She let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He didn't like being cryptic. He knew she was going to read a lot into it that he would prefer she not. But what was he going to say? Hurry up because Maggie says you should? If it turned out to be nothing, he would shoulder the blame, but there was something in his little daughter's insistence that convinced him to call his wife.

He knocked and they went into the room. John was resting quietly, still hooked up to a heart monitor. As they approached the bed, John opened his eyes. He smiled at Bobby, and his smile widened when he saw Maggie. Bobby lifted her and set her on the edge of the bed. John slid his arm around her and drew her into a hug. "How is my princess?"

"Good, Grampa. How do you feel?"

"I feel good, honey." He stroked her hair. "Where's your mom?"

"She's comin'. Daddy called her."

John shifted his attention to his son-in-law, a man he loved like a son. "Are you all right, son?" he asked.

"I'll be fine, John."

The old man could tell that things were not right with the younger man and it had nothing to do with his health. It didn't take a huge leap for him to figure out what it was. "Be patient with her," he said quietly. "She's full of fire and it gets away from her sometimes. There's a fine line between fanning the flames and being consumed by the blaze."

Bobby nodded. He understood John's caution, but it was too late. Her fire had consumed him long ago, and he had not tried to stop it. "Do you remember what you told me years ago? I think it was Maggie's first Christmas."

John nodded. _...maybe you love my daughter too much..._ "I remember. I never changed my mind."

"And I've come to think that maybe you were right."

"Even then, you were in too deep to get out of it."

Bobby nodded and placed a kiss on Maggie's head. "I know, but I can't help what I feel."

John smiled weakly. "That's how I knew you were right for her. You understand how she is, but you love her without reservation."

John was right. He did love Alex without reservation. Maybe that was part of their problem, but he could not force himself to love her any less. He sighed softly. "That will never change," he replied.

The older man kissed Maggie's head. "This child was born from that love, which makes her very special." He gently guided Maggie into his arms and hugged her. She settled herself against his chest and stayed in his embrace. "She's wise beyond her years. Learn from her."

"John...I..."

The old man reached out and closed his hand on Bobby's arm. "Maggie will never steer you wrong, Bobby. She's been blessed by all that's best in you and in Alex. She has her mother's fire and your brave heart, Alex's determination and your sensitivity. And she embraces fully the love you share. I know how Alex can be. Sometimes, the storms she spawns are too fiery to navigate. But don't let her drive you away. When you lose your way, Maggie will be your beacon, the shelter you need to weather the firestorm until it passes."

Bobby shifted uncomfortably. "No, John. She has no place in the disagreements between Alex and me."

"You misunderstand, son. She will never come between you. But she harbors the calm you seek, the calm you both sometimes need. Don't draw her in. Let her bring you out. That doesn't mean she ever has to be involved."

Maggie wasn't listening to what was being said between her father and her grandfather. With her head resting on John's chest, she listened to the beat of his once-strong heart. It didn't sound right to her. She sat up. "Grampa..."

He touched her cheek. "It's alright, princess."

She could see that he had made his peace with his mortality. He knew he was going to go with the angels...soon. She hugged him again. She was going to miss him.

* * *

Alex hurried down the hallway toward her father's room with her partner behind her. He hadn't hesitated to accompany her. He didn't know what to make of her husband, but he didn't know the guy, either. So he'd done the only thing he knew to do when Bobby called—he'd gone with her.

Stopping outside her father's room, Alex hesitated to gather herself. She didn't want her father to think she was frantic. She had to be calm and in control, at least on the outside. She looked at Albright, who gave her a reassuring nod, and she opened the door.

The light from the hall spilled across the room onto her father's bed. His eyes were closed, and Maggie was snuggled beside him. Bobby stood near the window, brimming with nervous energy. "Bobby," she softly called to him.

He turned, looking from her to Albright and back, not sure what to make of her partner's presence. Maggie heard her mother's voice, and she sat up. "Mommy?"

Alex looked at Bobby a moment longer before turning her attention to Maggie. She approached the bed. Maggie reached out to her, and Alex hugged her. "I'm glad you came, Mommy," she said softly. "The angels are waiting for Grampa, an' they won' wait any more."

"What are you talking about?"

But Maggie didn't know how to explain it, so she withdrew from her to snuggle with her grandfather again. Alex could feel her husband's presence behind her. She tensed when he touched her, not because she didn't want him to touch her, but because she hadn't expected him to touch her. His grip loosened immediately, but she stepped back into him, which was exactly the right thing to do. Reassured, he slipped his arms around her waist and pressed his face against the crook of her neck. She settled her hands over his, and he brought his mouth to her ear. "We have to talk," he whispered.

The whisper of his breath across her ear made her shudder, and she felt something akin to an electric current zip up and down her spine. By not letting her emotions turn to anger, she allowed her deeper feelings for Bobby to surface. She nodded and stepped away from him. She looked at her partner. "Are you okay here for a minute or two, Cutter?"

He nodded. "I'm fine," he assured her.

"Maggie, Daddy and I will be right back. My partner, Cutter, will stay here with you and Grandpa."

"Okay, Mommy."

Alex and Bobby stepped out into the hall. "What is it?" she asked.

"Didn't you hear what she said? About the angels?"

"That's just her way of reassuring herself about what's happening."

"I don't think so, Alex. I think it's more than that."

"Bobby, everything doesn't have to be complicated. Sometimes a spade is just a spade."

"And sometimes, it's not. I'm concerned about her."

She could see real worry in his eyes. "What does she say about it?"

"I haven't had a chance to talk to her, but she knows I will."

"Let's wait until then before we start leaping to conclusions."

He gently grasped her arm and very softly said, "He's dying, Alex."

She shook her head. "No. The doctors are going to send him home tomorrow."

"He's not going home. Not here. He's leaving us. He knows it—and so does Maggie."

"How?" she demanded, using anger to mask her fear. "What did you tell her? How does our six-year-old _know_ her grandfather is dying?"

He stood his ground, swallowing the defensiveness that naturally cropped up in the face of her anger. "I don't know how she knows. I just know that she does."

"A new parlor trick?"

"Alex..." He sighed. "I'm concerned about her, okay? I...oh, never mind..."

She grabbed his arm as he turned away. "I'm sorry," she said, realizing that she was driving him away again by finally giving in to anger, her default emotion. He was making an effort, but if their marriage was going to survive, she had to meet him halfway. "We'll both talk to her, okay? We'll figure it out."

His dark eyes searched her face, not sure what to think of her sudden change of heart. Once she made up her mind he was to blame, she usually didn't back down. But she was sincere, and he could see that. Taking a chance, he leaned in and kissed her. He relaxed when she accepted the tender gesture.

When he pulled back, she smiled sadly and touched his face. They went back into the room.


	8. Strength From Within

**A/N: First of all, let me say that it took a lot to bring Bobby and Alex to the dark place they are now, and it will take time and effort to move them away from it. Neither of them is great with emotion, so they'll struggle. I guess the deciding factor is going to be whether or not they are willing to put forth the effort to try. Saving the marriage will be key to saving themselves.**

**I appreciate all the emotional feedback I have gotten. It tells me I'm doing something right in constructing a story that stirs such passion from my readers. Now I owe it to each of you to find the right path for these two very difficult lovers back to one another. Continue with your feedback, please. Sometimes, the right path lies within something I am told by a reader who is as vested in these characters as I.**

**Finally, I would have updated sooner, but I had a mishap at the beginning of last week involving my laptop and about two ounces of milk. The funeral was midweek. Fortunately, I had saved most of my writing onto a flashdrive that was last updated in June, so I didn't lose much. I had also uploaded a couple of chapters to FFN for final editing, but didn't have a chance to get to them until now. Forty hours of overtime in two weeks didn't help matters much (it's our busiest season at the Zoo). I haven't yet replaced my dead laptop, so I'm having to borrow the laptop I gave to Katie until I can get another one. So apologies for my delays! **

**Finally, thank you all for sticking with me as I put our beloved couple through the wringer once again...and thank you for trusting me to fix them, eventually.**

* * *

Shortly after the lunch hour, Albright left Alex with her family and returned to the squad room to interview a witness they had scheduled that afternoon. Once the doctors confirmed that John had taken a turn for the worse and his heart was failing, Alex called her siblings, letting them know that their father's condition was rapidly worsening. Bobby called Mike and asked him to go to Reggie's, to stay with the little ones so his sister-in-law could come up to the hospital to say good-bye to her father. Kevin also made it there in time to say good-bye.

The summer sun was sinking toward the western horizon when the angels took John to Heaven. Maggie remained cuddled with him, and she wept softly into his chest when he went with the angels. Alex cried in Bobby's arms while he comforted her. Never fully in touch with his emotions, he found a way to dissociate himself from them entirely so that he could be strong for her. He had no other choice.

* * *

It was very late when they arrived home with Maggie, who fell asleep in the car on the way home. Bobby lifted her gently from the car without waking her, something he had done successfully many times over the years. He carried her up the stairs and settled her into her bed, slipping off her shoes and placing a soft, loving kiss on her curly little head. He stopped in the doorway to look back in on her. He took a silent accounting of the people in his life who had secured a place in his wounded heart, and he finally admitted that, of them all, none were more special to him than the little girl who slept in that bed. As much as he loved his wife, his children, his closest friends...none of them were Maggie. "I love you," he whispered, and he never meant those words more.

He pulled the door closed and started down the hallway toward the stairs, his fatigued mind slowly counting off the many ways he had failed her, how often he had failed _them_. Recent events had left him in a very dark place, and he wasn't sure how to find his way out. His father-in-law's voice filled his mind. _When you lose your way, Maggie will be your beacon..._

_No, John...That's too much to put on a little girl._

_It's not an expectation. It's simply who she is. It's a natural consequence of the loving heart you gave her._

He plodded heavily down the stairs and dropped into the recliner. He propped his head on his hand and realized for the first time all night just how empty he felt inside, how very alone he was. He just did not know how to process the loss of his father-in-law. It was beyond him at the moment.

Alex watched him from where she was seated on the couch. She noticed how heavy his movements were, and she wondered what he was feeling. That was one skill she had never developed—she could not read her husband, not the way he could read her...and the rest of humanity. She felt at a distinct disadvantage, and that irritated her. But she couldn't deal with him now. She had her own grief to manage, and that was about all she could handle. Bobby was on his own.

* * *

Mike arrived home with the other children about an hour later, carrying Tommy up to bed while Bobby settled Molly in her crib and Alex tucked Harry in. He was the only one of the children who was not asleep. He wasn't comfortable enough around Mike—or Bobby—to lower his guard enough to sleep under unusual circumstances.

As Alex tucked the blankets around Harry, he watched her face. "Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Did Grampa go to heaven tonight?"

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "He did."

"Oh. Is it okay to be sad?"

"Yes, Harry. It's perfectly okay to be sad."

He took the stuffed bear she held out to him and hugged it. "Maggie's daddy said we's gonna have a party and cake for my birthday on Sattaday."

"That's right."

"And Maggie telled me that her daddy's birthday is right after mine."

She nodded. "It is."

He was quiet for a minute, then he said, "Is it okay...if we have my party on Daddy's birthday?"

Alex noticed his slip in not calling Bobby 'Maggie's daddy,' and she felt tears well in her eyes again. It was a good sign that he said 'Daddy.' "Do you really want that, Harry?"

He thought for a moment before he nodded firmly. "Yes. Do you think it will be okay with him?"

"I think he would really like that."

A smile touched the little boy's face, and he felt good about his decision. "I like it, too," he answered with a yawn. "Maybe then, we won't be so sad no more."

"Maybe," she agreed. Leaning over, she kissed him. "Good night, honey."

"G'night, Mommy."

Bobby was just coming out of their room when Alex pulled Harry's door closed. She stepped away from the door and faced him, crossing her arms over her chest. He studied her posture, closed off, defensive, and asked, "Do you want me to stay?"

She was not going to let him put it all off on her. "Do you want to stay?"

He paused before answering, "Yes, I do."

"Okay then. Stay."

She turned and went down the stairs, knowing he would follow. She went directly to the kitchen while he stopped by the couch. Mike watched from the recliner, not quite sure what to read into their behavior. "How's it going?" he asked.

Bobby shrugged. "I, uhm, I'm not sure. She hasn't said much of anything."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know what to do. I don't have anywhere to go."

"That doesn't matter. What matters is where you want to be." He paused, then said, "You give in too much, and it doesn't get you anywhere. Stand your ground for a change. Do what _you_ want to do."

"That always turns out so well," Bobby answered sarcastically.

"Don't let her ride herd on you. This is your marriage, too, you know. Its survival or its destruction is on you as much as her."

Bobby looked past him as Alex returned from the kitchen with a glass. Bourbon...her go-to drink when she was hurting. He watched her for a minute, but he said nothing. Silently, he turned and left the room.

She watched him leave as she took a drink, wondering if he would choose the stairs or the front door. She was surprised that he chose the stairs.

Once he was gone, Mike looked up at her from the recliner. "That was cold."

"Did I ask you?"

"Don't care. Way to kick a man when he's down."

She stood there and finished her drink as his accusation hung between them. Then she crossed the room, handing the empty glass to him as she passed him and kept going. "Shut up, Logan," she snapped.

"I'm just sayin'..." he said to her retreating back.

Ignoring him, she went up the stairs.

* * *

The bedroom was dark, but she could see his silhouette by the window. Closing the door behind her, she challenged, "So you're choosing to stay?"

"This is my home," he answered. "It's where I belong, if I belong anywhere. I...I don't want to be anywhere else."

He spoke so softly, he almost sounded sad, and she wondered about his state of mind. She hadn't seen much grief from him. She knew that he had to be hurting. Somewhere inside, he was grieving as deeply as she was, but he wasn't showing any sign of that grief, and she wondered why. "Well...that's a step in the right direction," she commented, trying to sound casual.

"More like a shove from your father," he replied.

"He always loved you like a son."

He didn't reply to that, and she wasn't sure how to proceed. It troubled her when she was uncertain about how to handle him. He could be so difficult, and she wondered if it was because he chose to be, or because he didn't know how to be any other way. She decided to steer the conversation away from her father. The pain of loss was too raw, at least for her. He was playing his emotions very close to the vest and had revealed nothing—no grief, no anger, no sorrow. How deeply had he buried his pain that night? She wondered if she could draw him out. It wasn't healthy to keep everything bottled inside...but since when did he ever do anything that was healthy? "Harry had a request when I put him to bed."

"What was that?"

She still could not interpret his tone. "He wants to postpone his birthday party."

"If that's what he wants, we can postpone it."

"He wants to have it on your birthday."

He looked at her over his shoulder, his brow furrowed. "What?"

She heard the surprise in his voice. Well, it was a place to start. At least it was an emotion, and she grasped at it. "That's what he asked. He wanted to know if it would be okay with you. I told him you would really like that."

He thought about it for a moment as he turned back to the window. "I...uhm, of course I would."

"And he called you Daddy."

"He...did what?"

"He wasn't thinking about it. He called you Daddy."

Bobby didn't reply to that, but he became very still. She watched him, unsettled because she was right back where she started—she could not read him at all. "You okay?"

"I'm okay," he assured her.

"I told you he was making progress."

"And I'll undo it all if I leave, right?"

She considered his words, spoken in a tone she could not read, and thought about the best response. Finally, she swallowed the lump that had reformed in her throat and said, "You'll break my heart if you leave."

She watched his shoulders shift as his back straightened in response to her words. All night long, Bobby had been quietly stoic, not allowing himself to grieve for the one man who had been like a father to him, not out of duty, but out of love. He remained quiet and intense as he stood by the window, giving her no reply. Maybe he simply needed time to himself. "I'm going to take a shower. I'll be right back."

His only reaction was a brief nod. She gathered her clothes, looked at him once more, and went into the bathroom.

As she showered, Alex felt the heavy weight of loneliness descend upon her. Somehow, the world seemed an emptier place. She felt deep grief for the loss of the father she'd adored. It would take time for her to adjust to living in a world without him in it. Things had changed between her and Bobby as well, and she wasn't sure how to repair the damage that had been done. It was a good sign that he was still there, that he had not gone to seek...whatever it was he needed to bear his grief. Part of her was afraid to find out what he needed while another part of her just wanted him to need _her_. Maybe her sharp words had wounded him too often, driving him away until he couldn't find his way back. Once, he had seemed impervious, his armor somehow bulletproof to the barbs she shot his way. She wasn't sure exactly when his armor had failed him, but he was wounded and she wasn't sure she had the skill to heal him. She felt him slipping away from her, and she didn't know how to pull him back. She didn't know when he'd started slipping away.

When she reentered the bedroom, she was not surprised to find him by the window where she'd left him, still fully dressed. "Bobby? Aren't you coming to bed?"

"Not just yet," he answered.

"Why not?"

His tone didn't change. "I just...I don't have...the energy any more. I don't have what it takes..." he trailed off, afraid that if he went on, he would compromise the casing in which he'd bottled the emotions he couldn't handle.

"Do you have the energy to take off your clothes and lay down with me? Can you be here because I need you?"

Sometimes, her words were as sharp as a razor and they cut deep. Other times, her words could be downy soft, but they cut just as deeply. "What are we going to do?" he asked.

She listened for the emotion in his words, but she could not hear any. He had taken to heart her recent criticisms, though they had been spoken harshly in anger and she regretted them. His grief over John's death was compounded by the impending failure of his marriage to her, and he could not cope with either, much less both. She thought about their early morning talk, and she knew he was lost, unable to cope with his life at the moment—and she had asked him to abandon every method of coping he knew without leaving him any alternatives. If she let him go now, she was afraid she would lose him for good. She never meant to drive him away, and she acknowledged to herself that she'd handled him poorly, ignoring a decade of experience to react to him with anger. That was not the way to handle him. No one affected him the way she could, and it was wrong of her to use that to her advantage to hurt him because he'd made a mistake.

She hesitated, unsure about what to do. Finally, she crossed the room and rested her hand on the small of his back. "First of all," she said softly. "I am going to tell you that I am sorry. I was wrong. I lashed out at you when I shouldn't have and let my own insecurities dictate what I said."

She could feel the tension beneath her fingers when she touched him. But once she'd spoken, once he heard what she had to say, he relaxed. His shoulders sloped forward just a little. She went on. "The kids would miss you terribly, but I would miss you more."

He placed a hand on the window frame and gripped it until his knuckles turned white. She felt him tremble just seconds before he turned and pulled her into his arms. He buried his face in her hair and held her in a crushing embrace, his body shaking with the effort to maintain his control. His struggle cut something loose inside her, and she squeezed him tightly, hugging him just as fiercely, and she wept silently against him.

Closing his eyes, he held onto her as though his life depended on her, and maybe it did. His relationship with his mother had been very complicated, and he'd gotten carried away by his grief when she died. His relationship with her father had been simple, built on respect and love, and he was fighting to keep it all together...for _her_. She had been close to her father, and she needed to have the freedom to grieve. He did not feel at liberty to grieve, not yet, and so he remained aloof, detached from all that he was, sacrificing his soul—for the moment—so he could be strong for her. He simply could not share her loss, not if he stood any chance at all of helping her to bear her pain. There would be time later for him to grieve; now was not that time.

As she held him, she felt much of her anger slip away, replaced by a grief that did not mourn solely for her father. She realized that she was standing at a crossroads, a place to which she had been a driving force in bringing them. She stood on the brink of losing him, much as she had lost Joe, and that was a loss she could not bear. "Please," she whispered, not caring if she sounded desperate or weak. "Please, don't go. It's not enough that I want you and it may not be enough that I love you, but dammit, Bobby, I _need_ you, and that's all I have!"

He gently stroked her hair and kissed her head. "Go to bed, Alex."

"Bobby..."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

He released her from his embrace and stepped away. Pulling a pair of sweatpants from his dresser drawer, he went into the bathroom. She sat on the bed and waited for him. When he came out of the bathroom, he settled in beside her and let her cuddle against him. She kissed his cheek, lingering, which he allowed. So she snuggled closer. Again, he allowed it. "I love you," she whispered into his ear.

"I love you, too," he answered, but his tone and his affect were flat.

"Bobby..."

"Go to sleep, Alex. The next few days are going to be hard ones. You'll need your rest."

His tone was gentle, but firm. When she rubbed his chest, he softly sighed and relaxed a little, but he would not let her hand roam. She finally drifted to sleep with her head resting on his chest, lulled to sleep by the strong, steady beat of his heart. He held her through the night, but sleep avoided him for the second night in a row.


	9. A Step in the Right Direction

John Eames was laid to rest Sunday afternoon. His children discussed all the details among themselves, and they all agreed to hold the after-service gathering at Alex and Bobby's home. Alex thought it was a good idea. Bobby had been having such a rough time, and she thought he would be more at ease in his own home. It did not occur to her that he might be unsettled by having so many strangers invade the home he considered private until it was too late. Family was one thing, but many of the mourners were friends of John's. Although gracious, Bobby was very restless, and Alex felt bad about that. When she'd asked him about the gathering, he'd agreed, but now she wondered if it was just another concession on his part to make her happy.

Mike would have made the gathering more bearable for Bobby, but after the services, he talked briefly with Bobby and then he left. When Alex asked where he'd gone, Bobby shrugged his shoulders. "He said he had some business to take care of. I didn't ask for details."

Alex was surprised by his grouchiness, then she wondered how much he'd actually slept over the past few days. He was obviously fatigued, and again she felt bad for not noticing how tense and irritable he'd been until now. She had been preoccupied with making the arrangements, and the fog of grief that held her in its grip had clouded her days. She'd gone to great lengths to keep herself busy, mainly with her siblings, so she didn't have time to dwell on her loss. She knew she would not be able to handle addressing the children's questions, so she left them to Bobby, who seemed to be holding up better than she was.

While Alex passed the long days with the siblings who shared her loss and Bobby channeled his energy into the children, at night when they came together, there was silence. After polishing off a tumbler of bourbon, Alex crawled into bed, into Bobby's arms. He held her close, lightly stroking her back and her hair, demanding nothing from her. She felt comforted by his strong embrace as he held her, and she was relieved by his silence. Belatedly, she realized Bobby had barely spoken at all, remaining just as rigid and stoic as he had the night John died.

Bobby had been very close to John, much closer than she'd realized at first. There were many things she was realizing only now that she should have been aware of all along. She made up her mind that it was time to have a real heart-to-heart talk with her husband, once they resumed their normal routines and the shock of John's death had passed. Right now, she had a houseful of people to feed and make small talk with. Bobby would find a place among their guests where he would be most comfortable and he'd pass the time in as much solitude as he could find.

* * *

There were lots of people in the house, many of whom Maggie didn't know. But they had been friends of her grandfather's, a lot of them cops like he'd been, and they were nice. So were their wives. Most of her cousins were outside, playing ball in the yard with some of the adults. She'd been playing with them, after changing from her church clothes, of course, but she was taking a break with Harry and Zeus. They were hot and hungry. After washing her hands in the downstairs bathroom, while she waited for Harry, Maggie looked into the family room. They had a new couch in there, one her father and Uncle Mike brought home a few weeks ago, and Daddy was sitting there now, talking to Uncle Kevin, who was his favorite among her aunts and uncles, except for Uncle Mike. She wondered why Uncle Mike wasn't there.

When Harry came out of the bathroom, they went back to the living room, where their parents had set up a long table. Then the adults filled it with food. She grabbed three plates from a stack near the potato salad. Handing Harry a plate, she set the other two plates side-by-side on the table. After making Harry a ham sandwich and adding potato salad and macaroni salad to his plate, she made a pastrami sandwich with mustard for one plate and a bologna sandwich for the other. Putting potato and macaroni salad on each plate, plus a little cole slaw, she added a pickle and a fork to the three plates and a few olives to the pastrami plate. Zeus gobbled up everything she dropped on the floor. Carefully, she carried the two plates to the family room. Harry followed with his plate.

Bobby was now alone in the family room, still on the new couch. Zeus trotted over to him, jumped up onto the couch and climbed into his lap. He stroked the puppy's soft fur and scratched behind his ear. Maggie placed the two plates on the couch beside him as he put Zeus on the floor. The puppy laid down at his feet as Maggie put a plate on Bobby's lap. She climbed up onto the couch and pulled her plate onto her lap. Harry followed suit, climbing up to sit beside Maggie.

She took a bite of her sandwich and patted her father's arm. "You gotta eat, Daddy."

He hesitated before taking a bite of the sandwich she'd made for him. He wasn't really hungry, but she had gone to the trouble of fixing it for him. She watched him. "Is it good?"

"It's the best pastrami sandwich I've had in a very long time. Thank you, baby."

"You're tired, aren' you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Your eyes are tired."

He wondered if he would ever be able to hide from her. He leaned over and kissed her head. "I'm fine. How are you doing?"

"I'm good."

Bobby looked at Harry. "And you, Harry?"

"I'm good, too...uh..."

Bobby sensed he had something more to say, and he waited, taking another bite of his sandwich. After a minute, Harry said, "Mommy said it's okay to feel sad."

"She's right."

"Do you feel sad, too?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you miss Grampa?" Maggie asked.

"Yes. I will miss him every day."

"F'rever?"

Bobby nodded. "Forever."

Maggie took a bite of her potato salad. "An' Gramma, too?" she asked.

"Of course."

Harry listened to them silently. After a moment, he spoke, slow and tentative. "I miss my first mommy sometimes, but I'm not sad anymore b'cause she's gone. Mebbe I didin love her for real. Am I bad 'cause she's gone an' I don't miss her no more?"

When Maggie remained quiet, Bobby knew they'd had this discussion before and she had been unable to answer Harry's question well enough to alleviate his concern. He watched the little boy as he fidgeting, knowing he was afraid of the answer.

Harry was confused because he felt so much grief for John and so little for his own mother, and he couldn't come to terms with that. His father had been a very bad man. People often said that Maggie had her daddy's eyes and Tommy had his mommy's smile. Maybe he had gotten his father's..._bad._

"No, Harry. You're not bad," Bobby said gently.

"Are you sure?" he asked earnestly.

Then he sat back suddenly, hands covering his mouth. He almost knocked his plate from his lap. Maggie steadied his plate while Harry watched Bobby with frightened eyes. Children were never supposed to question adults. Harry remembered, shortly before he ran away from home, the teacher had been talking about jobs and careers. Her job was teaching children, she explained. Then she asked the children what their parents did. Maggie's mommy and daddy were police officers and Devon's daddy climbed buildings, kinda like Spiderman, to clean the windows. Harry had no idea what his father did, so that night, he asked his mother. She had not given him an answer, but she told his father about his query when he got home. He trembled at the memory of his father's rage, of how he'd hunted him out and beat him for it. His question went unanswered and the next day, when the teacher asked him what his parents did for a living, he began to sob uncontrollably. Maggie had comforted him while the other children stared and he shut down for the teacher after that. She asked Maggie to walk him to the nurse's office, and on that walk, he told Maggie that his father had gotten very angry the night before, though he'd omitted telling her about the beating. That was when Maggie began to worry about him...and when began to trust her.

Bobby recognized Harry's reaction, and he knew the child was remembering the past. He chose his words carefully. "Yes, Harry. I'm sure. You have a loving heart, and now you have parents who love you as well. Your fears will fade over time. The past is only a memory and it can't hurt you. Your mother has a place in that past, and eventually you will find the right place for her to be. There is no right or wrong to it. She'll be where you need her to be, just as we will. It's your life, Harry, and you get to choose the place people have in it."

"So...it's really okay to love the mommy I have now?"

"Of course it is."

The little boy seemed to relax, trusting Bobby's assessment. He took a bite of his sandwich. "Mommy said it was okay for me to have my party on your birthday."

"Yes, it is."

"But I was thinkin'...I don't wanna take your birthday away from you..."

Bobby smiled. "You won't. I'm glad to share the day with you."

Actually, Bobby was relieved that the focus would be taken from him. He'd never been comfortable with birthdays...or any other holiday. He did not, however, want his own apathy to rub off on his children. He wanted them to look forward to celebrations, rather than dread them as he had been conditioned to since childhood. He looked at Maggie. According to Alex—and Mike—this child he adored had been conceived on his birthday seven years ago. What should be a pleasant memory remained a void in his mind, a cause of grief within the moral sensibilities he'd worked so hard to cultivate. He had conceived a child with another man's wife. To this day, he berated himself for his weakness, for the crime of passion to which he'd succumbed. The only thing missing was regret. He could not force himself to regret this child he so loved. He did, however, harbor a resentment, one he chose to bury deeply, toward Alex for letting it happen. She'd gotten what she wanted, and that was what had mattered to her. That night, it seemed, had set the stage for the relationship that followed. Alex always got what she wanted, no matter the cost to him.

He rose from the couch and set his plate aside. Leaning down, he kissed Maggie's head. As he passed Harry, he reached out and lightly ruffled the little boy's dark hair. Harry didn't flinch or draw away, and Bobby gave him a tender smile. He left the room.

Maggie watched him leave, frowning. She wanted to object to his departure, but she sensed he was troubled and she let him go. Sometime, he needed to be alone and this was one of those times. She didn't understand why he was so deeply unsettled, and she wished she could fix it for him, but she knew she could not. She sat with Harry and they finished eating. Then they returned to the backyard with the puppy to rejoin the fun with their cousins.

* * *

Alex found her husband sitting alone on the front porch. She wished Mike was there. He would keep Bobby entertained and distracted. Without his friend, and with her so busy with other duties, he was too much alone. He hadn't been sleeping and the deep fatigue intensified the darkness he felt inside. She sat beside him on the steps and held out a beer. He looked at the bottle in her hand, then he looked at her. She saw suspicion in his dark eyes. He didn't take the offered bottle.

Reaching out, she gently grasped his hand, pulled it toward her and placed the bottle in it. "It's okay," she said softly. "I promise."

He took the beer but didn't open it, still wary of her intention. Lack of sleep had made him paranoid. She watched him for a few minutes. "Bobby, I'm sorry. I was wrong."

Her admission surprised him. She rarely ever admitted fault. "About what?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

"I took away every coping mechanism you have and left you floundering. All you have left is withdrawal, and I've found that is the one thing I can't handle from you."

He cocked his head to one side. His brow furrowed. "So you're giving this one back?"

This was not going as she'd planned. She thought he would be happy that she was conceding to him. He'd won this battle. He did not seem to see it as a victory, though. "I was wrong to take it away in the first place," she said. "I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I wasn't. I just...I felt you slipping away from me and I didn't know how to draw you back."

"So you thought trying to control everything I do would accomplish that?"

She shrugged and looked at the walkway that led toward the sidewalk. "I don't know. I had to do something."

He still hadn't opened the beer, so she took it from his hand and opened it for him. Handing it back, she said, "How did this happen, Bobby? How did we drift so far away from each other?"

He didn't have an answer. Every life had eddies and currents, and it seemed that the ones in their lives had pulled them in different directions. The only thing anchoring them in the same part of the stream was the children. Finally, he took a drink from the bottle. "I...I guess it's my fault," he said. "I...I thought I knew how to be a good husband, but I was wrong. I don't have the first clue. You know what you want, and I try to live up to your expectations, but I always fall short of the mark. And every time I do something that I want or need to do, it's the wrong thing and you get upset with me. I try. I try hard. But it's never good enough."

"I guess I am pretty hard on you. I...I remember what I had with Joe, and I remember that it was good, but it wasn't all good. And what I had with Ricky was terrible, but it wasn't all bad. I guess this time I was looking for perfection."

He looked at her, his eyebrows raised. "And you thought you would find that with _me_?"

She laughed a little and rested her head on his shoulder. "Okay, maybe not. But I thought that with you, maybe I had more of a blank canvas and I could create the exact picture I wanted. Somewhere along the way, I forgot to consider what you wanted."

He twisted the bottle in his hands. "All I ever wanted was to make you happy."

"But you lost yourself in the process. You have given in to me so often, now that's what I expect, regardless of what you want." She looked at him again. "Tell me that you don't resent me now."

He wanted to tell her what she wanted to hear, but he couldn't lie to her. "I'll work through it," he said.

"But I don't want you to work through it. I want you to tell me about it. I need to know what's in that beautiful mind of yours."

"No, Alex. No, you don't. Trust me."

"How can I share your life if you close off so much of yourself to me?"

"That was where I made my first mistake. I was so much in love with you I never realized that to be with you was to share myself with you. If I'd known that, I would never have taken that step." He tapped his temple. "It's a very frightening place, in here. It's not somewhere you ever want to go, and it's not someplace I would ever let you be. I close myself off to protect us both. There's nothing beautiful about me. It's dark and angry and frightening. I'm sorry. The third time is supposed to be a charm, but for you, it turned out to be a curse."

He set the half-full beer down on the porch between them. "Thanks for the beer."

He got up and went back into the house, leaving her alone with his dark words hanging heavily around her. She knew there was a way to get through to him. She just had to find it.

* * *

Alex didn't see Bobby again for the rest of the evening. She got the children ready for bed and tucked them in. Then she went searching for him. She found him in the basement, at the worktable he'd set up for messing around with woodworking and model building.

She looked over his shoulder at the model boat on which he was working. "When did you start that?"

"A couple of months ago."

"Is it done?"

"Almost. I made it for Harry, for his birthday."

He set it gently on a stand and sat up straight, stretching his back. "Bobby, you're wrong," she said softly.

"So what else is new? What am I wrong about this time?"

She rested her hand on his back, and tears filled her eyes when he stiffened at her touch. "You are not a curse. Of all the men I've loved, you are the most real. You're challenging and loving and patient and...and...I have been so unfair to you. I took advantage of your love when I had no right to do so. And I never stopped. I guess it became a bad habit I never saw fit to break."

"I was careless," he said. "I gave you three children when I never intended to give you one. Each of them will have the black cloud of mental illness hanging over their heads for at least half their lives. I don't know what to think about what Maggie said about seeing angels, but it scares the hell out of me. I look at you, and all I can see is anger and unhappiness, and I know that I put it there. So much is broken, Alex, and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know if it can be fixed, and that scares me, too. I...I have a lot of faults, but until recently, I never thought that loving you was one of them."

"Do you regret them?"

He looked confused. "My faults?"

She smiled at his expression, and she felt her heart swell. "No. The children."

"Regret them? No, not at all. They are the only thing in my life that is pure and good. I may never have intended to be a father, but I feel that they are the only thing in my life that I did right...and that was always because of you. They were conceived in love, and that's the purest a child can be."

"If we conceived another child now, would he be as pure?"

He twisted on the stool, alarm in his eyes. "What?"

She almost laughed. "I'm not pregnant," she assured him, and the panic left his eyes. "I just want to know if he would be as pure as the other kids."

"Are you asking me if I still love you?"

"I guess so."

"Alex, I'll go to my grave loving you. Every day, I love you more. But sometimes all the love in the world isn't enough."

"So what would make it enough?"

"I don't know. Respect, maybe?"

"You don't respect me?"

He shook his head with a small smile. "I respect you plenty. You're the one who doesn't respect me. If you did..." He shook his head. "Maybe if you respected me a little, we wouldn't be in trouble now."

"Bobby..."

He shook his head and placed two fingers over her lips to silence her protest. "Don't. Lying to me won't spare my feelings. It's my fault, actually. If I had the balls to stand up to you and tell you no once in awhile, maybe then I would have earned your respect." He sighed. "It was just never a big thing to me, letting you have your way. But then, I turned around and I found I was no longer entitled to an opinion...except where the children are concerned. That's the only time you ever seek my opinion. Otherwise, it's always what you want, the way you want it."

"When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?"

He reached out to touch her, then changed his mind and withdrew his hand. "A good night's sleep?" He made a noise. "I can't remember back that far."

"Okay, then...the last time you slept at all?"

He sighed. "I've been dozing here and there, enough to keep going without hallucinating, I guess. It's been enough."

"Like hell it has. Listen to you."

"Alex, just because I'm admitting the truth doesn't mean I'm sleep-deprived."

"You _are_ sleep-deprived, and it's _not_ the truth. You're depressed and paranoid, and that _is_ from lack of sleep. You can't go on much longer like this."

He looked down at the floor and she finally reached out, pushing her fingers through his hair. "Listen to me," she whispered. "I'm going to be totally honest with you. I admit, I like to get my way, and I always appreciated that you gave it to me. But I've been pushing it lately, and I know it. I just never expected you to crack. As long as you were willing to give, I was happy to take. But I made a mistake in never giving back. Then, when I did try, it backfired in my face and made everything so much worse." She paused when her voice began to waver. Closing her eyes, she gathered herself, and when she opened them, she found him looking at her. Steeling herself, she went on. "After Ricky, I was so determined never to let a man take advantage of me again, I forgot all about the man I was with. Otherwise, I would have realized that you would crawl to the moon and back for me and never ask why. But I've taken advantage of you far too often, and when you do ask for a little leeway or understanding, I've been too stingy to give it. You think I don't trust you or respect you or need you...but I do. I'm so sorry. Just tell me what I can do to fix it."

Finally he moved. He slid his arm around her waist and drew her closer to him. "You can't fix the past. What's done is done. But you can change the future. If you think you've done wrong, you can change the way you do it."

"You don't agree with me?"

"I don't know. I can understand why you went so far the other way. It's the same reason that I let you do it. You deserved to be spoiled, so I spoiled you. It got so much out of control because I let it. You're right, I would do anything for you. All you ever have to do is ask. And all I need in return is a little respect and some trust. Alex, for years, I was there for you, waiting, because I loved you. I'm still here, and I still love you. Maybe that's my biggest fault...or my biggest blessing. Maybe it's both. I don't know. But I don't want to go through the rest of my life without you. You're the one who makes it all worthwhile."

"What about all the things I've done wrong?"

"What about them? They're over and done with. There's nothing to be done about them, so let them go and start over. Every day is a chance to start over again."

"Can you let them go?"

"I already did, long ago. Alex, if I could forgive my mother for what she did to me, forgiving you is a walk in the park. What have you done that's so bad?"

"I gave you three children you never wanted."

He tightened his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Never, ever think I don't want them. They are the light of my life. No regrets there, Alex." He paused. "Maybe I wish I'd been there when Maggie was conceived..."

Her fingers lightly stroked the back of his neck. "I didn't make her by myself."

"You know what I mean. To this day, I don't remember a thing."

Turning her head, she kissed his neck. "Maybe you should let go of a little of that morality you carry around."

He tipped his head, giving her better access to his neck. "I thought that was one of the things you liked about me."

"Hmn...you could loosen up, just a little."

Eyes closed, he groaned softly. "I'll try."

She worked her way along his jaw to his mouth and he pulled her firmly against him. Withdrawing a little, she ignored his protest. "Why don't we see if we can't do something about that insomnia of yours?"

"Alex..."

She silenced him with a kiss. "We'll talk some more after you've slept. We'll work this out, I promise. I won't let you go, Bobby. I love you, and I want the life I have with you...as long as you want it, too."

He nodded. "I always have."

"Then we have a common goal. Come on. You can finish the boat later."

She took his hand and led him up the stairs. Outside their bedroom, he stopped. Much of the tension he'd been carrying had drifted away, replaced by a bone-numbing fatigue he had been fighting for days. She looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

He paused a little longer before replying, "Sex isn't always the answer."

"That depends on the question. Tonight, it's the answer."

He studied her. "Then...are we okay?"

"I don't think we ever weren't. We just...got a little off track."

"We still have work to do."

"It's a marriage. We'll always have work to do. But it's the best job I've ever had."

"Do you mean that?"

"Yes. I do." She saw his hesitation, the same paranoia-fueled wariness she'd seen when she offered him the beer, withdrawing her prohibition without petition. She reached up and gently pulled him closer for a kiss. "Sealed with a kiss, a token of love," she whispered. "I mean it."

He blinked a couple of times, then he gave in. Leaning in for another kiss, he let her lead him into the bedroom, surrendering to her and then, finally, to a deep, dreamless sleep.


	10. Managing Grief

Alex stood in the kitchen, stirring pancake batter, when the front door opened. A couple of moments later, Mike appeared in the doorway. "Oh, hi," he said.

"You were expecting someone else?"

"You don't usually cook. Where's Bobby?"

"I killed him and buried his body in the back yard."

"For the dog to dig up? Good thinking."

She laughed. "He's upstairs sleeping."

"How'd you manage that trick? On second thought, don't tell me." He opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of orange juice. "Are you two okay?"

"We will be. But you won't if you drink out of that carton."

"I won't," he promised as he opened the cupboard and took down a glass. "I'm not a caveman."

"We missed you yesterday. Bobby could have used your company."

"He didn't do so well around all those people, did he?"

"Not really. I wish he'd have said something when I talked to him about having the gathering here."

"It was your father's funeral. No one was more of a father to him than John was. He wasn't going to turn the funeral arrangements into a battle. He's tired of fighting with you."

"I don't like fighting with him, either. It's not good for either of us or for the children."

"Well, I'm glad you're working it out. "

"Where were you yesterday?"

"Carolyn let me see Sean for a few hours."

"And?"

"And what? I saw Sean for a few hours. Carolyn had a date and she doesn't know the guy well enough to be comfortable with him being around Sean. At least she trusts me more than a random date."

"So you didn't spend the night there?"

"No. Why would I? I stayed with a friend."

Alex gave him a look. "You have friends?"

"You're hilarious. Who's up?"

"Go see. They were all still sleeping when I got up."

"Since when are you the early riser?"

"Since I have children to feed and I'm not going to wake Bobby to feed them. Do you have any idea when the last time he slept was?"

"No idea. I thought he was in bed with you."

"In bed, yes. Sleeping, no. The whole past week is nothing but a blur for me. I know that I slept, but I don't think he did. At least, not since he woke up on Tuesday."

"Well, if that's the case and he's really sleeping now, he may be out for awhile."

"I was thinking the same thing, and that's why I didn't wake him."

He finished his orange juice, returned the container to the refrigerator and set his glass in the sink. "Need help?"

"Since when do you cook?"

"I don't, but I can do other things."

"I've got it covered, thanks."

"Okay, then. I'm gonna take a shower and change."

He left the room and she began cooking the pancakes.

* * *

It was late afternoon when Bobby finally woke. He lay in bed for a little while, trying to recall the events of the past few days. With few exceptions, his memory was hazy, at best. Finally, he got up, showered and dressed. Then he went searching for his family.

When he entered the family room, Maggie and Tommy charged at him with Zeus right behind them. Molly squealed happily and bounced on Mike's lap. Harry got up off the floor where he was building a fort with blocks and, though he didn't approach Bobby, he smiled and did not withdraw when Bobby moved closer, reached out and touched his cheek.

"Where's Alex?" Bobby asked as he sat beside Mike and gathered Molly into his lap.

"She went to get pizza for dinner. I think the pancakes did her in this morning."

"She made pancakes?"

"Yep, and the kitchen exploded. I helped her clean it up. I think she's better off leaving the cooking to you. You've got it down to a science. At least, I've never known you to get pancake batter on the walls."

Bobby almost smiled. "It won't hurt for Alex to cook. I won't be around forever."

Mike frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just what I said."

"Do you know something I don't?"

"I think you already know I'm not immortal. I have almost a dozen years on her...and a damaged heart. It's not rocket science."

"No, but it's also not something you bring up very often. You feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," he answered, turning his attention to Molly.

Mike watched him with a critical eye, not quite believing his claim that he was fine. But he let the matter drop. "Sorry I wasn't here after the funeral. Alex said you had a difficult time."

"It would have been difficult if you were here, too."

"Maybe not as much."

"Did you have fun with Sean?"

"Of course. We're on the same wavelength."

"Wavelength meaning maturity level?"

"You're spending too much time with your wife."

Bobby finally smiled. "Not true. Did you spend the night with Carolyn?"

"No. That's a thing of the past. She has a new boyfriend."

"So where'd you go?"

"I'll tell you where I wasn't—out on the pier. I still wonder about you sometimes."

"It's peaceful by the water and no one bothers me. I can just drink my beer and smoke and be alone. It's a good place for me to be when I'm troubled."

"I'll take your word for that."

"So, where were you?"

The question was asked out of innocent curiosity, but he paused for a moment before admitting, "I was at Denise's."

Bobby stiffened at that. "You were where?"

"I stayed with Denise last night."

Bobby had no idea what to make of that and he didn't know how he felt about it. "What...I mean, why...?"

"You haven't been able to go by to see her, so I stopped in to tell her what was going on. She sends her sympathy. She knows how much you loved John. We talked for awhile and after she got her evening medicine, she asked me to stay. So I stayed."

"How is she?"

"You want the truth or an answer that will make you feel better?"

"Can I have both?"

"I wish you could."

Bobby paused, bouncing Molly on his lap. "She had a doctor's appointment Wednesday," he said, feeling bad for not remembering to at least call and ask her how it went. "What did he say?"

"September 23," Mike answered. "That's the day they're gonna take the baby."

Bobby kept his attention on the baby, who smiled, clapped her hands and said, "Dadadada."

He played with her for a few minutes, until she decided she wanted to play on the floor. When she tried to slide from his lap, he gently set her down. Zeus came trotting over, licking her face. She laughed, then crawled away toward Harry with the puppy tagging along. They tumbled into Harry's block fort. "Hey!" Harry protested.

Zeus picked up a block and ran off with it. Harry scrambled after him. Bobby watched them with a small smile before turning his attention back to Mike. There was no trace of amusement left in him when he said, "So, she has a month left to live."

Mike nodded. "More or less, yeah. I'm sorry, man."

"How...how is she doing?"

Mike motioned at him, at the expression on his face. "About like that."

Before Bobby could reply, Alex came in the front door and the children all scrambled to greet her. Mike gave his shoulder a friendly smack. "C'mon. Pizza's here."

"You go on. I'll be there in a minute."

Mike paused, but left the room without saying anything more. Bobby got up and walked to the back window, looking out across the back yard without seeing it. He didn't move until he felt a hand on his back. He turned his head to look at his wife. Gently, she moved her hand over his back and softly asked, "Are you going to eat?"

"No. Not right now."

She could tell he was shaken, and she was concerned. "What's wrong?"

"They...They've scheduled Denise for a premature delivery. She won't make it to term. She...She only has a few weeks left."

Alex couldn't interpret his tone, and she couldn't imagine what he was feeling. She was certain he hadn't yet dealt with her father's death, and now this. "Oh, Bobby," she murmured, resting her head against his arm. "I'm sorry."

He didn't answer, and she knew he didn't believe her. But she was sorry, if only because it was another loss for him to bear. "Why don't you take Maggie to see her tomorrow?"

He pulled away and looked at her, and the same look crossed his face that she saw when she offered him the beer the day before. "Exactly what has changed?" he asked.

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know. I just...I'm trying to be fair to you. I'm trying to stop seeing her as a rival, to think of her instead as a friend. I don't want you to hate me for interfering with your good-bye. She's been your friend for a long time, and now she doesn't have much time left."

His dark eyes wandered around her face, his expression guarded. She took his hand and led him to the couch. It took some coaxing for her to convince him to sit beside her. He was on edge, confused and uncertain.

Once he was seated, she slipped her hand into his and slid closer to him. He didn't move away, but he didn't exactly welcome her closeness, either. Softly, she said, "I have done a lot of things wrong lately. I've been so angry with you and I didn't look past that. When you came home so messed up the other night, I began to see how I was wrong, and I realized that I knew better. Anger was never the way to deal with you. It only drives you further away, and I don't want that. I...I can feel you slipping away from me, and I don't know how to pull you back."

"So you turned to anger?"

She shrugged. "My go-to emotion."

He nodded. "Yeah, it is."

She slid a little closer, bringing her thigh into contact with his. "I don't know if I can change that; I've been like this all my life. But I'll try not to lash out at you so much. And I'll try to be quicker with the apologies." She waited for a reaction, disappointed when he had none. She tightened her grip on his hand. "In all the years I've known you, I'm not sure I've ever figured out your go-to emotion. You...You're easily hurt and you withdraw, but you don't lash out. Not right away."

He shrugged. "I try not to react emotionally right away, but you always go for the jugular and it hurts. You know exactly what to say to twist that knife. Yeah, I get hurt. But the only emotion I really connect with is anger, and I try hard not to unleash that on you."

"Until it overwhelms you and gets away from you."

He nodded. "Sometimes, I just don't know what to do with you."

She was quiet for a moment. "You're wrong about that, you know. About anger being the only emotion you connect with."

"Am I?"

"Yes. What about love?"

"What about it?"

"You connect with that on a pretty profound level. I mean, look at Maggie, how much you've always loved her."

"But...I don't have to connect with that. It's just...it's there. It's always there. I never have to go looking for it. It's become part of me, part of who I am. I don't have to think about breathing. I don't have to think about love, either. And it's not just for Maggie. It's for you, for the other kids, for Mike, for..."

He stopped, still not looking at her. "For Denise?" she offered.

"That just...snuck up on me. I never realized it. But...But she's not you. She doesn't..."

"It's okay," she interrupted softly, before agitation took over and the conversation got away from them. "I think I understand. I'm trying to, anyway. You have such a loving heart, and I have no right to try capping that. I trust you, Bobby. I mean, the whole time I was married to Ricky, you made me keep my vows. If I couldn't get you to step off that moral high road you travel, then I have no reason to believe anyone else will, either."

"Now you're wrong. You did get me off it. Twice."

"And look how much it still bothers you."

He shifted, restless. "There's no room for a second lover in my life," he said. "And I swore that I would be faithful to you. I gave you my word. That means something to me."

She nodded. "I know." After a pause, she asked, "Did my father really tell you that you loved me too much?"

"Yes."

"And what do you think?"

"I think he was probably right. But I can't feel any other way. Once I fell for you, there was no going back."

"And you just never thought to let me in on the secret until it was too late?"

"I thought...well, I thought there was time, but I didn't want to screw up our partnership. So I just...I tried to deal with it. I didn't do such a great job."

With a nod, she told him she agreed. Then she broached a more painful subject. "Before he died, Dad...put in a word for you."

"Oh? What word was that?"

"He loved you like a son, Bobby." She paused when she felt him tremble. "He...He told me to be gentle, to tread lightly instead of steamrolling your feelings. He wanted me to make it right between us, because he knew that I was the reason it went wrong."

"That...That's not true. There are two of us in this marriage and we both had a hand in driving it up onto the rocks."

"I know, but I was steering. And I'm sorry. I...He shook his finger at me and told me I've been mistreating you for years. And then he hugged me and told me that I was always the strong one, the one he never had to coddle, the one who was most like him..."

"The favorite," he whispered.

She nodded and choked back a sob. "I'm going to miss him so much."

He slid his arm around her and pulled her against him. She buried her face in his chest and he looked toward the ceiling, choking back his own grief, which had been so rigidly controlled. He dealt with grief his own way, privately. It was never something he shared with others, not even with Alex. Under the effects of powerful medication, he'd slipped a little after his mother died, but Alex never saw the extent of his grief. He wouldn't share this loss with her, either. She needed him to be strong and so he would be. When Denise died...he didn't even want to think about that. He couldn't think about it. Losing John was a stunning blow, and he'd managed to keep his grief at bay. He would deal with it someday soon, but it wasn't something he was comfortable sharing. So he held her while she cried again, steeling himself against his own profound feelings of loss.

Alex regained her control and sat back slowly. "I..." she began.

He shook his head. "You were close to him. It's okay."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Dad was important to you."

"Yes, he was. He was like a father to me."

"You loved him."

"Yes."

"Bobby, I haven't seen any grief in you."

He paused. "It's not something you need to see. You're barely handling your own grief."

"You don't have to be strong," she chided gently.

"I have to be...myself. I will...deal with it, in my own way and in my own time."

"And what do you need for that to happen? One bottle? Two?"

He stiffened at the accusation, and she knew resentment had forced her back to old habits. She grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry," she said. "I...I just wish I were as strong in the face of grief."

He shook his head as he relaxed. "No, you don't. It's much healthier to confront it, to deal with it and move on. You're a lot stronger than I am, Alex."

"I don't understand."

"I...I don't move on. I deal with it my own way, but I never move past it. Grief is something that stays with me. I'm not strong enough to let it go."

"So your mother..."

He shook his head. "I haven't...managed to deal with that yet."

"Bobby, all that grief is just going to eat at you..."

He shrugged. "I don't know how to release it. It's just...the way I am. You can't change me by telling me to change."

He had a point. "But...you know, it really does help, sharing your grief."

"I'm not so generous."

"You're impossible."

"So I've been told."

She sat there and looked at him while he looked back at her, and she felt her heart swell once again. Slowly, she shook her head. "What?" he asked.

"Damn you," she replied with a smile. "I love you."

His face softened for the first time. "I love you, too."

She leaned into his embrace and he folded his arms around her. Tough times lay behind them, but the road ahead was steep and rocky, too. He was going to need her in ways he could never imagine, and she would need him as well. The strength of their love would have to get them through.


	11. In the Still of the Night

**A/N: To clear up some confusion...Mike and Carolyn are not married in this story arc. He proposed to her in the story "Reflections," but they never actually married.**

* * *

Alex had been in bed for two hours when Bobby finally joined her. She watched his form in the darkness as he slipped off his shoes, pulled off his shirt, and slid out of his pants. He was a shadow creature, so her mind filled in the blanks from memory. It was a pleasant sight.

He slid into bed, obviously trying not to waken her. The odor of scotch wafted toward her, and she knew he wasn't as okay as he wanted her to believe. He nestled deeper into the bed, tucking his arms behind his head as he looked through the darkness toward the ceiling. He was obviously not sleepy.

She ran her fingers lightly down his side, startling him. "I thought you were sleeping," he said softly.

"I wanted to wait for you."

"You should have said something. I would have come up earlier."

She shifted her body closer to his, brushing her lips over his chest. He trembled. She kissed his chin and said, "Tell me what you did for the last few hours."

"Why?" he asked, suddenly tense and suspicious.

The suspicion in his tone made her sad rather than angry. It was no one's fault but her own that it was there. "I just want to know. I'm curious."

He shifted away from her and she knew he was reluctant to talk. "Should I fill in the blanks?" she offered.

The idea of that terrified him more than the thought of just telling her what he'd been doing. He shifted again, restless. "I...I'd prefer you didn't."

"Why?"

"Because the life I live in your mind is much more interesting than the life I actually live, and your imagination gets me into a lot more trouble than I can manage on my own."

"You really think that? You're pretty damn good at getting yourself in trouble with no help at all from my imagination."

He sensed that she was getting irritated, but he was uncertain how to work her back from it anymore. Choosing the least of all evils, he fell silent. She read his withdrawal and her irritation soared, but she quickly reeled it in. Instead of scolding or cajoling, she ran her fingers once more over his side. She could feel him relax, just a little, soothed by her touch. The worst thing she could do to him, she realized, was to withdraw. The cold shoulder treatment was torture for him. She closed the distance he had put between them in the bed, resting her chin on his shoulder as she lightly stroked his chest.

"Now...talk to me," she whispered into his ear, knowing full well the effect she had on him at such close range.

"First, tell me what you deduced," he replied, his soft voice containing just a hint of a tremor.

All right. She could play that game. "Well, you were drinking, and you had a cigarette or two."

Those were safe guesses. "Uhm, try four."

"You should quit, you know. It's not good for you."

"A lot of things I...indulge in are bad for me."

"I know."

She was too quick to agree, but he let it slide. The conversation didn't seem to be going in the right direction, and he took a moment to figure out how to steer it where he wanted it to go. He didn't get a chance to try. She took the reins and plowed ahead. "So, you spent two hours drinking and smoking. What else?"

"I talked to Mike for awhile."

"About?"

She knew better. He never included her in the things he shared with Mike. Still, she felt the need to push, just a little, hoping things might change, that _he_ might change. She wanted so much to be on the inside looking out for a change. Her fingers still wandered over the warm skin of his chest, and he was becoming a different kind of agitated, so she withdrew her hand, hoping to prolong the conversation before he tried to draw her in for sex.

When her fingers slid away, he was disappointed. He'd hoped she wanted more than conversation, and if that were the case, he knew he could end the talking prematurely. That wasn't going to happen, it seemed. She really wanted to talk. _Hell._

"We just...talked. About the funeral. About the kids. About Carolyn's new boyfriend. Just...stuff."

"Carolyn's what?"

"Apparently, she's started dating. He's a lawyer or something. Marvin or Martin or something like that."

"How does Mike feel about it?"

"He's not sure what to feel. He hasn't met the guy yet, and neither has Sean. She let Mike take Sean so she could go out. That's why he had to leave after the funeral."

"So she went out on a date and then spent the night with Mike?"

"Where did you get that idea?"

"He wasn't here, was he?"

"No."

"So where else could he have been?"

He tried to look at her, but she was too close and it was too dark for him to make out any of her features. "Are you saying you don't think he has other options?"

"So he picked someone up? Was he trying to get back at Carolyn?"

"Slow down, Alex. He didn't pick any one up. And no, he's not looking to get back at her for anything. He seems to be okay with the split, and he doesn't carry grudges. They're too much of a burden."

She ignored what she perceived as a jab at her and asked, "So where was he?"

He paused, wondering why she thought it was any of her business where Mike was. Finally chalking it up to simple curiosity, he answered, "He spent the night at Denise's."

She was surprised into silence. He waited for a smart comment or snarky insult, but none came. "Did...Did you hear me?" he asked uncertainly.

"I heard you. I just don't know what to make of it. Do you?"

"No, not really."

"How do you feel about it?"

"What difference does that make? Why should I feel anything?"

"Because you've been so close to her for so long, and because you're so close to him. It would be normal for you to feel jealous."

"Jealous? I have no business getting jealous of anyone else, Alex. I have what I want. I have you. Besides, we both know I'm not exactly normal."

She pulled back to look at his face, shrouded in deep shadow. That was exactly the right thing to say. "But she..."

His fingers lightly touched her lips. "But nothing. She's my friend. Nothing more. I love her the way I always have. Sex never changed that, and it never made me want you less. My relationship with her was always what it needed to be. She was always what I needed her to be. When we could no longer be lovers, it was okay. It was actually nice just being friends again because we hadn't been that way for a long time. We were totally...comfortable with each other once again."

"Weren't you comfortable being lovers?"

"Not always, no. Everything always seemed so...complicated, which was my fault."

"How long were you lovers?"

"Does that matter?"

"Bobby, you can't open the door a couple of inches and then slam it shut. If you want me to understand your relationship with her, then you have to discuss it with me because I wasn't there."

"You were and you weren't. You were there, between us, for years, Alex. Again that was all my fault. I tried so hard not to do that, but...I could never hide from her. She knew. She always knew."

She felt a stirring in the pool of her jealousy for Denise. _She always knew_. But how? How did that woman get so close to him when he still held her, his wife, at arms' length? She fought down the gentle surge. "I still don't get why you didn't stay with her," she ventured, trying to understand, glad he was willing to talk.

He scowled. "Because I had you," he answered, thinking that answer should be obvious. "I...I always loved her, but I was never in love with her...not the way I was with you. The first time I slept with her..." he trailed off, suddenly mortified by the conversation.

She read the sudden tension in him correctly. "It's okay," she soothed. "I want to know. I need to understand. What happened the first time?"

He still hesitated. "I've never asked you about your boyfriends, about Ricky or Joe."

"So ask."

"No. I mean...it's not something I have a need to know."

"And I don't want to know about any of your conquests, except for her, because she was never a conquest. She conquered you. That was no easy feat."

He let that roll around in his head for a minute. "It wasn't something I ever planned. The first time...just kind of happened. She...she was a beat cop in Crown Heights when I worked patrol in Bed-Stuy. She called for assistance one night, and my partner and I responded. That was how we met."

"She was a beat cop?"

"Yes...but not for long. She opted for admin instead and worked her way up to the Chief of D's office." He smiled fondly. "If she'd stayed out there...she could have _been_ the Chief of D's one day."

"What happened? Why didn't she stay?"

He pulled himself out of the past and turned onto his side to face her. "Does it matter?"

She knew that if she was going to connect with him, to draw him out and get him to keep talking to her, it was going to take some effort on her part. She wasn't always willing or patient enough to put forth the effort, but right then, she was. Leaning closer, she lightly nuzzled his nose with hers. "I'd like to know."

He rested his hand on her hip and brushed his lips over hers. She could feel the tension bleed from his body. Softly, he sighed, and she caught the scent of scotch as his breath caressed her face. She reached out, settling her hand on his waist and stroking him with her thumb. He responded to her gentle affection by answering her. "She didn't have the heart for it. She simply couldn't separate herself from the job. She brought it home with her, and it would have eaten her alive. But that wasn't what did her in, though eventually it would have."

"So what made her give it up?"

After another pause, he forged ahead, uncertain but still willing to talk. "A few days after we met, she, uhm, s-she was involved in a line of duty shooting. The suspect died." He paused again, as though trying to read her. She continued to move her thumb, stroking him just below his waist. Reassured, he continued. "S-She never got over taking his life. It tore her apart, and she...turned in her badge. To this day, she hasn't forgiven herself for taking that life, even though she'd also taken a bullet herself. It took them five and a half hours to stop the bleeding and repair the damage. Post-op complications kept her in the hospital for nearly two weeks. I went to see her every day. On my days off...I stayed with her. We..."

He trailed off and fell silent. "Keep going," she urged, placing a soft kiss on his chin.

He trembled again, but he did as she asked and kept talking. "We got close, uh, very quickly. She spent six weeks recovering before she started her new job as an administrative assistant to a precinct captain in Manhattan. Two years later, they eliminated her position and she moved to 1PP."

"What about you and her? How did you kind of just happen to sleep with her?"

He raised his hand to run his fingers through her hair. She was amazed by his open candor. The key, it seemed, was maintaining physical contact with him and remaining calm. Subdued gestures of affection reassured him that she wasn't upset and encouraged him to keep talking. In the past, her anger had always interfered with their connection and kept her from discovering that simple way past his defenses. _Be gentle with him, Alex,_ her father's deathbed advice came back to her._ Underneath that tough exterior he projects, he's fragile, and you can hurt him without even trying. He loves you so much. Don't destroy him, muffin._ His use of the childhood nickname he'd given her when she was small, a moniker he hadn't used for years, had been her undoing. _Be gentle,_ he'd admonished, making her promise she would try to rein in her anger. Until then, she hadn't realized just how much her father had observed over the years—or how much he honestly had loved her husband. Choking off a soft sob at the memory of her loss, she covered it up by shifting closer and pressing her lips lightly against his throat. She followed a gentle nuzzle with the tip of her tongue, flicking it slowly over one of the most sensitive spots on his body.

He reacted strongly, and when she withdrew after a few seconds, he protested. She kissed the corner of his jaw and gently nibbled his earlobe. Desire shot through his body like a lightning bolt and he grasped her hips, leaving her no doubt about his intentions. "In a minute," she whispered.

"Now," he responded.

"Bobby..."

He silenced her with a kiss that took her breath away. She had pushed too far in her attempt to reassure him and he'd lost his focus. There was no point in talking any more, not at the moment. Breaking the kiss, she returned her mouth to his throat and surrendered to him. They were done talking for the night.


	12. Saying Goodbye

Alex woke before dawn, her body ablaze with the most wonderful feeling. Bobby's hands, his beautiful, busy hands, roamed over her body, caressing, fondling, coaxing her gently toward a delicious release. She trembled, making soft noises that encouraged him to continue. She couldn't remember the last time he'd woken her this way, and she surrendered to him with abandon.

When she came back to herself, he was on his side, head propped on his hand, watching her. She couldn't make out his features in the pre-dawn glow that was beginning to fill the room, but she could imagine his expression. Her mind could see that self-satisfied smirk he wore when he knew he'd done something good, something right. She leaned closer and kissed him. "I'll be right back," she promised.

When she returned from the bathroom, the room was a little brighter, and he was on his back, arms folded under his head, waiting. She crawled back in beside him and snuggled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He curled his arm around her and kissed her head. "I, uhm, I think it's a bad idea, Alex." he said softly as he caressed her back.

"What's a bad idea?" she replied, her mind still somewhat foggy with sleep and desire.

"Continuing the discussion we were having last night."

"So why did you start talking about it with me at all?"

"My mind was a little...uhm, fuzzy. It's too easy for me to...lose track of myself when I'm like that."

"You told me more than you ever have before. Was that because you were...fuzzy?"

He thought about that before he answered, "No. That was because you asked and you weren't pissed at me. You didn't seem so threatened by the past while we were talking."

"Is it just the past I have to worry about?"

"Baby," he said softly, kissing her temple. "You have nothing to worry about."

She shifted, but she didn't move away from him. Instead, she turned further into his body. "I can't help how I feel, Bobby," she said gently.

"Can you at least explain it to me? I don't understand why you feel so threatened by her."

"Maybe it's because you proposed to her first. Or maybe it's because you've always been so close to her when you keep me at arm's length."

"But...I..." He paused to regroup. "When I proposed to her, I thought I would never have you. There was no reason for me to think that Ricky would ever go away. I was...I was just so tired of being lonely, of being all alone in my life. I wanted to share it with someone, and if it couldn't be you, she is the only other woman I was willing to spend the rest of my life with. I felt bad that I wasn't in love with her, and I felt she deserved better, but I would have moved heaven and earth to make her happy. I guess I'm lucky that she's smarter than I am about things like that because she turned me down."

"I don't understand that. She could have had it all."

He shook his head slowly. "No. Not everything. She knew I wasn't in love with her, that you were the one I really wanted. It wasn't fair, but it wasn't something I could help either. What I would have had with her would have been nice. It would have been comfortable. But what I have with you is...earth-shattering. Nothing else in the world could ever touch that. That best thing she ever did for me was the hardest thing for her to do. She said no."

"You don't regret that? Even now?"

He shifted his position so he could touch her easily with his free hand. He stroked her side. "I regret a lot of things. You know that. But where I am right now in my life and where I am right here, this second, no, I have no regrets. I know what I am capable of, and I could have had whatever I wanted in a woman whenever I wanted it. Blond, brunette, big breasts, long legs, tall, short...anything. I know how to turn on the charm and sweet talk a woman into my bed. You've always known that about me. I always loved Denise, but there has never been any fire between us. I need that fire. The passion and the chaos and..." He trailed off and regrouped. She could feel the need in him. "I need you. You bring all of that to me, and you draw it out of me. You satisfy every need I have. My life wants for nothing because you are in it. I look at other women—I won't deny that—but I don't want any other woman, not even a little. I only want you."

"But..."

He shook his head and placed a finger against her lips. "No 'buts'. That's all that matters, Alex. First and foremost, I love you. I love what we have with each other, what I have with you. I don't want anything from any other woman. I only want you. Second, I do love Denise but it's very different from the love I have for you. What we had as lovers was nice, but it's over. I have never cheated on you. Once your divorce was final, you were the only one for me. Before that, what I did, and who I did it with, was not any of your concern. Third, Denise is my friend and she is dying. Her life is now being measured in weeks. Soon it will be in days, then hours. I don't have much time to come to terms with that. Fighting with you about it will only make her death that much harder for me to deal with. I need your help, Alex. I can't handle irrational jealousy. You have to trust me or we will never make it. I trust you implicitly. I don't think I'm asking too much when I expect the same from you. I love you with all my heart. No one else even comes close. Believe in me, believe in that love, or there's no point."

"Love me or leave me?"

"I didn't quite put it in those words, but...if you can't trust me, then you need to move on. I don't think I ever gave you reason to doubt me, but if I did, then I need to know."

He was very serious. She read no deception in him. He did love her and he had always been faithful, from the very moment that fidelity was required of him. Before that, she didn't have any right to expect anything of him, and she had no right to demand anything of him while she remained married to another man. Her jealousy was matched only by the betrayal he felt when she married another man. Both emotions were very real—and very unfair. "I'll make a deal with you," she said, watching as he pulled back in surprise. Catching him off-guard was very empowering. "I will try to curb my jealousy if you stop feeling so betrayed because I married Ricky. That's not fair, either, you know. I had no idea how you felt about me until it was too late. Logan knew. I did not."

He gave that some consideration. "Can you stop being jealous of Mike? I can't live my life in a bubble with you at the center and no one else allowed in."

She paused to think about that. "Can you stop shutting me out?" she countered, unwilling to accept his terms without him accepting any of hers.

He sighed, a forlorn sound of defeat and surrender. "I always thought that love would be enough. I suppose that was a very juvenile expectation, but I never had anything concrete to base my expectations on. I need...time...time to adapt to what's expected of me. I've spent half a century becoming the man I am. You can't expect me to change that overnight. I will try, I promise. Just...please don't crucify me when I fail."

She knew that she'd been hard on him in the past, and again, her father's deathbed plea for her to be gentle with her husband returned to her. "Just talk to me, okay? I can't read you the way you can read the rest of the world. When you're struggling, I need to know. Talk to Mike first, I don't care. As long as you come to me and tell me what's going on in that wonderful, complicated head of yours. Bobby, I love you so much. I don't want this marriage to fail. I want to spend the rest of my life right here, with you. But that's only going to happen if we both work at it. I agree—we have to trust each other, and I promise to try harder not to drive you away."

He rolled onto his side and pulled her to him, holding her close as he buried his face in her hair. He nuzzled her ear. "Me, too," he whispered. "I don't want to fail at this. I've screwed up so much in my life. I don't want to add this to the list."

She slipped her arms around him. "Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?"

He paused in his exploration of her neck. "Uh...I'm not sure."

She smiled as she tenderly stroked the back of his neck. "I see a man full of contrasts. I see a man arrogant with confidence, yet sometimes so uncertain he can hardly take another breath. I see a man filled with love for others yet brimming with self-hate. I see a man I don't know how to help who needs me to survive. Tell me what to do."

He pulled back a little. "I wish I knew what to tell you. I haven't figured it out myself."

"So let's work on it together. You don't have to do it all by yourself any more, Bobby. I don't think you understand that."

"It's not that. I just...I don't know how to not do it by myself. I have no idea how to share the burden. I've never done that before."

"Then it's about time you learned how."

"Suppose I can't learn?"

She brushed her lips over his. "That is not an option," she said with certainty.

Her mouth covered his, silencing any further protests. In the glow of the early morning dawn, she shattered his uncertainty with love.

* * *

Maggie held tightly to her father's hand. She had been at Denise's apartment plenty of times in the past. Maggie loved her very much, and she always loved to visit her. Denise was special to her father, but she was special to her as well. All her life, Denise's love and gentleness had been a source of great warmth that she found nowhere else.

But something had changed. Maggie still felt the warmth and love as they entered the apartment that was so familiar and yet, now, so strange. Somehow, Maggie could sense Denise's illness...and she knew. Heaven was waiting for Denise, and it wouldn't wait much longer. Very soon, the angels would come for her as they had for Grampa. She simply knew that this was good-bye. She would never see Denise again, and that made her heart very sad.

Bobby knocked lightly on the bedroom door. Maggie gripped his hand more tightly and he looked down at her as the door opened. He was surprised to see Mike on the other side of the doorway. Mike gave him a sheepish grin. "I got here first," he offered.

Bobby gave him a meaningful look as Maggie tugged on his hand, pulling him gently into the room. He let her lead him to the bed. Mike reached out as Bobby passed him and rested a hand gently on his friend's back. Bobby looked at him again, but only for a moment.

Maggie stopped at the bedside and raised herself up on tiptoes to look at Denise. Gently, Bobby leaned down and lifted his little girl up onto the bed. Maggie grasped her hand. "Tommy didn' come," she said softly. "He wouldn' unnerstand."

Denise smiled at the child and tightened her hand around Maggie's. "What wouldn't he understand, honey?"

"That it's time to say good-bye."

Bobby choked on nothing and Mike raised his eyebrows in surprise. Denise did not divert her full attention from the little girl at her side. "What did Daddy tell you?" she asked.

Maggie released her hand long enough to crawl across the soft, king-sized mattress so that she could snuggle her little self right up against Denise. She curled her small hand around Denise's again. "Daddy telled me that you're sick. And that your baby is gonna come soon."

"That's all?"

Maggie nodded. "That's all."

"Have you overheard Daddy talking to Mommy or Uncle Mike?"

"Sometimes."

"About me?"

Maggie searched her memory as the two men shifted uncomfortably. If she was anything, Maggie was honest, and if she had heard her parents fight or Mike trying to make it right between them, she was likely to tell Denise what she heard, just because she asked. After a few tense moments, Maggie answered, "I heard some stuff. Mommy doesn' like for Daddy to be sad, and there's been too much to make him sad. Daddy doesn' do so good bein' sad."

"Out of the mouths of babes," Mike muttered softly.

Bobby's arm lashed out to smack him. "Shut up," he hissed.

Ignoring them, Denise nodded at Maggie. "Yes, you're right about that."

"Grampa went to Heaven," Maggie said sadly.

Warm tears filled Denise's eyes. "Yes, I heard. I'm so sorry. Your parents loved him very much, and I know you did, too."

She nodded. "I al'ays loved Grampa, and I al'ays will. Heaven's a happier place with him there."

For the first time since Bobby had set Maggie up on the bed, Denise looked at him. In his face, she saw a measure of the grief he attempted to hide from the world. When he noticed that she was looking at him, though, his expression became more neutral and the grief was gone. She turned her attention back to Maggie. "Tell me why you think this is good-bye, baby," she encouraged.

"B'fore Grampa went with the angels, heaven was waiting for him. Heaven is waiting for you now."

Denise studied Maggie's solemn face and gently brushed a curl back off her forehead as she had often done in the past to Bobby when he needed to have a serious talk with her. She laid her hand on Maggie's cheek and smiled. Her expression reflected the pure love she felt for the little girl. "You are so much like your daddy," she said softly. "You're so observant and so loving."

Maggie reached out and placed her hand on Denise's round belly. The baby kicked at her hand, and Denise smiled. "He does that to your daddy, too."

Maggie giggled a little. "He likes us!"

"Yes, he does."

Maggie focused on the baby for a few minutes. "What's gonna happen when you go to heaven? Who's gonna take care-a your baby?"

"Don't worry about the baby, honey. We're going to find the perfect person to take care of him."

Maggie considered that for a minute but offered no argument, to her father's relief. Maggie changed her position again, stretching out to lay beside Denise. She rested her head on Denise's shoulder and stretched her arm across her chest in a gentle embrace. Denise held her in return, and she looked up at Bobby, whose expression was still guarded. But she could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. This was a visit that had to happen, one she wanted to have, but it was so hard for him.

Her loving heart filled with worry for the gentle man she had loved for so many years. He was not coping well with the changes in his world, and that was putting a strain on his marriage, which was still in its infancy. She hated adding to his burden, something she had taken pains to avoid over the years. But there was nothing she could do for him now, no way for her to spare him this pain.

She tightened her arms around Maggie and she wondered if the little girl who had saved him just by being born would be able to work her magic again to save him from himself.


	13. Happy Birthday

**A/N: Okay, here's the thing (any Monk fans? :-) )... I predict that just about everyone will love the first part of this chapter and hate the latter part of it. Many of you want Bobby and Alex to take Denise's baby and just as many don't. One or two want to send the baby to China, as far away from Bobby as he or she can get. I gave it lots and lots of thought and came up with a solution that I like, which is just as important, I think, since there is no way I can make everyone happy (China was never an option). I am trying to work happy times in among the rough ones, so...if there is anything specific anyone would like to see, let me know.**

* * *

Harry awoke with a start from his dream, his small body covered with sweat. He'd been running, trying to escape his past life, but everywhere he turned, he ran into Martin Gomez, in some form or another. He was the clerk at the store a few blocks away where they sometimes stopped for milk or bread. He was the stock boy at the grocery store, glaring at him as he put boxes of macaroni and cheese on the shelf. He was a teacher at the new school he and Maggie would begin in a few weeks. He was the neighbor across the street, watching from behind the curtains. And when he ran into the house, a figure by the fireplace in the living room turned and...Harry woke up, stifling a sob.

He started to get out of bed, but he heard a loud thump in the hallway that sent him scurrying back under his covers. Trembling, he listened until he heard voices, the familiar voices of men who had never caused him harm. He was finally beginning to identify Maggie's daddy simply as Daddy. Maggie had always been lucky to have him, and now Harry was seeing himself as lucky as well. Daddy was kind and gentle, though Harry wished he would smile more. He always seemed so serious. Life, for him, was a heavy burden. Harry understood that feeling, for he had also been burdened by his life, until he'd come to live with Maggie and her family, until he'd become one of them.

Sometimes, though, the past intruded on the present, bringing with it the ghosts of a life now left behind. Daddy seemed to understand how that worked, and when he comforted Harry, somehow, he made it better.

The voices in the hallway drew closer, and Harry listened to them. There was no shouting, no angry swearing. They seemed to be trying, though unsuccessfully, to be quiet. Soft voices mixed with quiet laughter, and Harry relaxed. He continued to listen until Daddy went into his room and Uncle Mike went into Tommy's. He heard another loud thud that seemed to come from Tommy's room and he ducked his head further under the covers. He and Tommy had been playing cowboys and Indians before bed and maybe—just maybe—they'd forgotten to take down the battlefield on the floor next to Tommy's bed. Uncle Mike had become another casualty of their play war.

He waited for his door to swing open and for angry voices to reprimand him for being careless, but he fell asleep waiting. The feared reprimand never came.

* * *

Harry sat on the edge of his bed and looked around his room. A toy box sat in the corner by the window, half-filled with toys. Over near the closet, his dresser was partly filled with clothes that were only his. Next to that was a bookcase, which had books on every shelf and room for more. That gave him hope for the future, that there was room for more everywhere.

He tried not to think about the life he'd left behind, when he had been the only son of a weak woman and a very bad man. He had sisters now and a brother. His mother was a strong woman, his father, a very good man. Everything that had been bad in his last life was gone, replaced in this new life by so much that was good.

He'd known nothing beyond the small apartment where he had lived his days in fear until he started going to school. Why had they sent him to school? Because police officers came to see his mother and they told her that he had to go to school. His father had been furious, and he'd beaten her—the only time Harry knew of that he had. So he went to school.

There, in school, he'd made friends. The teachers were kind to him, but he was still afraid. He'd see his father, watching him, as he gave surprises out to the older children on the other playground. When he saw Harry sitting alone, small and miserable, he'd smiled. That was how he wanted Harry to be, a shell of a person, paralyzed by a fear he'd created in the child's mind. It was how he kept Harry under control, through fear.

Then, Harry met Maggie. She was everything that he was not. Where Harry was afraid, Maggie was brave. Where Harry was withdrawn, Maggie was outgoing. She'd reached out to him, and somehow, he became a better person through her. She had helped him escape from the brutal prison of his former life, drawing him along into a bright, new future.

Harry got off his bed and walked to his dresser. He pulled out an orange t-shirt with a koala on the front and a pair of denim shorts. Slowly, he got dressed. He was six-years-old now, and today would be his party. A party, just for him. He still had trouble wrapping his mind around that. No one had ever celebrated his life before. Ever. In his past life, he had been an inconvenience, a thing cast off to be kicked around and maligned.

But now, in his new life, he was cherished. He had a real family who celebrated his life every day. Today, however, was the day they would share that celebration with everyone else. Today, everyone would have a chance to say _Happy birthday, Harry_. And to him, that meant _I love you_.

* * *

Alex rolled over in her bed, surprised by the warm body sleeping beside her. He hadn't been home when she went to bed late the night before, and her sleepy mind did not expect to wake up beside him. But there he was. She pressed herself against him and softly kissed his mouth. As he responded, she moved her hands over his warm skin, smiling when he pressed for more. She was a little surprised he was ready for her, but he never disappointed.

Snuggling against his chest afterward, she softly sighed as he rubbed her back. "Happy birthday," she whispered.

He made a soft noise and kissed her forehead. "Is that why you're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"I know you got a call last night."

"Oh? And do you two clowns know how lucky you are that she didn't call Ross?"

He nuzzled her neck. "We weren't causing any trouble, not really. We just...we were blowing off steam."

"Exactly how do you interpret 'Behave'? I didn't think I was ambiguous."

He grinned a bit sheepishly. "Maybe we got a little carried away. But...but we had fun. It's been a long time..."

When he trailed off, she leaned over and gave him a soft, lingering kiss. "I worry about you," she whispered. "One of these days, you're going to screw off around the wrong person."

"Let me worry about that. I've been, uh, screwing off for a long time. I know how not to get caught."

"Oh? So what happened last night?"

"That was all Mike's fault. He panicked and yelled 'Run!' We'd have been perfectly fine if he'd just stayed put and let me talk to her."

"So you weren't running away?"

"Absolutely not. I was chasing Mike."

She shook her head slowly. She had been angry initially after talking to the officer who eventually detained the two men, but then she thought over everything Bobby had been through lately as well as what he was facing, and her anger quickly faded. Whatever he and Mike had been doing—and she decided she didn't want details—it was something they needed to do. It seemed to have worked. Bobby was a lot more relaxed. Perhaps her gentler attitude had a lot to do with it as well. She gave him another soft kiss. Sometimes men just had to be boys. She stroked his hair as he nestled against her...and the bedroom door banged open.

Maggie scurried across the room and stopped beside the bed. Bobby turned over and looked at her pretty little face beneath her mop of unruly hair. She smiled widely. "Happy birthday, Daddy," she said quietly, reaching out to touch his cheek.

"Thank you, baby," he replied.

"I'm gonna see if Harry's up. We're gonna make you brefkiss!"

He pushed himself up on an elbow. "What? Uh...no...Maggie, that's not...necessary..."

But she was gone. He dropped back onto the pillows. "Looks like they're going to make me breakfast."

"You stay here and relax," Alex said with a soft laugh and another kiss. "I'll make sure they get _their_ breakfast."

"Last year they brought me orange juice and a donut. Think I'll be as lucky this year?"

"Don't count on it. Dad was teaching her how to cook and she gets more adventurous every day."

"That's what I was afraid of. Well, as long as they don't burn the kitchen down..."

"That's why I'm heading down there now. Will you be happy with undercooked eggs and cold coffee?"

"Looking forward to it."

She smiled again and left the room.

* * *

As it turned out, breakfast wasn't horrible. The eggs were runny but not raw and the coffee was just cool enough not to burn little hands if it got spilled on the way up the stairs. There was no bacon or sausage because Maggie insisted he had to be careful of what he ate so he wouldn't get "bricks" in his blood.

After he finished his coffee and eggs, Bobby showered and joined Alex downstairs. The kids were outside, playing with Zeus, and Mike came down a few minutes later, sporting a nice black eye. Bobby studied him with a critical eye. "You didn't have that shiner when we got home last night. Uh, did you?"

"Nope."

He went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. When he returned to the living room, Bobby observed, "You're limping. Is that new, too?"

"Yup."

"Uhm...did you go back out?"

"Nope."

"Would you care to explain?"

"Not really."

"But...I don't...what happened?"

Mike sighed heavily and sat in the recliner. "It seems the Battle of Little Big Horn was still raging when Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse went to bed last night. When I came in...let's just say I helped to decimate the Seventh Calvary."

Alex tried not to laugh, but Bobby wasn't as polite. Mike scowled at him. "I woke up with Comanche and the General in the waistband of my shorts."

As Bobby laughed, Mike leaned over and picked up a Nerf football, which he threw at his friend's head. Bobby caught it and lobbed it back at him. "Happy birthday, man," Mike said, finally smiling.

Bobby smiled back. "Thanks."

"Did you tell her?"

Too late, Bobby gave him a look and shook his head. Mike gave him a look back that said 'oops' and was anything but sincere. Bobby's expression promised revenge as Alex turned to him. "Tell me what?"

"Uhm...well...Mike is...Mike's only gonna be staying here on the weekends when he has Sean, for a little while."

"And? Did you think I would have a problem with that?"

"No. Not really."

"Then there's something else to it. Where is he going to be?"

"Uhm...somewhere else."

"Goren, if you don't quit the games, your eye is going to match his."

Bobby laughed quietly, defusing a little of the tension. "I don't doubt you," he said, hands raised defensively when she turned fully toward him. "He's going to be...with his wife."

Alex turned toward Mike and froze in place, her face the picture of confusion. "Wait...I...I don't understand...Carolyn..."

Mike shook his head. "That boat already sailed. No, this is a lot different."

"Different how?"

"This is more a union of convenience than one of passion, although I do love her. Just not the way Bobby loves...you."

"You're going to have to explain this to me. Now."

Bobby gave Mike a glare. He'd been hoping for a nice quiet day and Mike had just tossed him into the tempest. "On Monday Mike is going to marry Denise."

Alex was floored. "What?"

"You heard me. He's getting married. We, uhm, we talked about it, the three of us. He wants to raise her baby, and the best way for him to take custody and not involve half a dozen agencies is to be her husband—and the baby's father on paper—when she dies."

She looked from one man to the other. "And just when did you plan on telling me, because obviously you weren't going to tell me now."

"I don't know. Tomorrow maybe."

"And you planned all this behind my back?"

Bobby frowned. "I'm not marrying her, Alex. Mike is. How does that involve you?"

Alex struggled not to lose her temper. "The baby will be living in my house."

Bobby's expression became stormy and Mike sat back, surprised. When he recovered, he shook his head. "No. No, he won't. I told Bobby you would never be okay with _her_ baby in _your_ house." He looked at Bobby. "Didn't I? This time, I'm sorry I was right."

Bobby still said nothing. Mike got up and went into the kitchen to set his cup in the sink. When he returned, he was composed, but his tone was cold. "Thanks for your hospitality. I'll get my stuff Monday, before the ceremony." He looked at Bobby. "You still gonna be there?"

"Of course."

"I'll see you Monday morning, then. Harry's present is on the shelf in Tom's closet. Tell him I'm sorry I couldn't be here."

He crossed the room and left the house. Bobby got up and started after him, stopping when Alex grabbed his arm. He looked at her with a guarded expression. He was angry and sad in equal measures—and very disappointed. Struggling to maintain control, he said, "He needs to be here for Harry."

She paused, then nodded, conceding that he was right. She released his arm and he took off after Mike.

* * *

Bobby caught up to him in the driveway, where Mike was standing beside his car, hand braced on the hood, chin on his chest. Placing his hand on Mike's shoulder, Bobby said, "Give her a little time. That was her knee-jerk reaction. Let her think about it, and she'll come around."

"Yeah, I know. That was my knee-jerk response. But I'm still gonna get my stuff. I should probably stay with Denise, don't you think? She gets so lonely, stuck there alone all day except for her nurse. She needs a friendly face, and since she can't see yours, mine's the next best thing."

"Are you sure this is what you want to do, Mike?"

Although the three of them had discussed the situation, Bobby had not had much of a chance to talk with Mike alone. By the time Mike brought it up the night before, they'd had too much to drink to have any sort of serious discussion about it. "I've given it a lot of thought, buddy. Believe me, it's not an impulsive decision. We'd discussed it before we talked with you about it. She was worried about how you would take it, but I knew you'd be okay with it."

"Neither one of you has to answer to me."

"Maybe not, but we both love you enough and respect you enough to consider your feelings in the matter. I knew you'd be okay with it because ultimately, this is something that's very good for her."

"And what about you, Mr. Confirmed Bachelor?"

Mike smiled. "I appreciate that, Bobby. But I worked my way through it before I ever brought it up to her. I'm not a marrying man and I've come to terms with that, but I'm a pretty damned good dad, thanks to you, and like we said, this makes everything so much easier for everyone concerned." He paused, turning to lean back against the car and face his friend. "Back when she first realized that she was going to die, Denise came to me and asked me how I felt about taking her baby. I hadn't given it any thought at all, so I promised her I would think about it, and I did. A lot. You were her first choice, of course, but you have four kids already and a wife who isn't particularly fond of her. She knew it would be too much of a burden for you, and that's why she never asked you. But me? I answer to no one, so I don't need anyone's permission to make this decision."

"Weren't you engaged when you first talked to Denise?"

"Yeah, but I knew it wasn't going to work out. After Sean was born, I realized there was no hope for us. But like you, I don't need to have a wife to be a great dad. You're lucky because you found the woman who completes you. I don't think there's one of those out there for me."

"But...you're going to marry Denise..."

Mike sighed. "That's a bittersweet union. I wasn't lying to Alex when I told her it was a marriage of convenience. And it's temporary, unfortunately."

Bobby reacted to that statement and took a moment to recover. Mike remained quiet, letting him have the time he needed. Then Bobby asked, "Suppose a miracle happens and she recovers?"

"I considered that, too. We were kind of thrown together and forced to become friends through you, but being friends with her was never any work. Over time, we developed a real affection for one another. I can say that I love her and not be lying. It's not the passionate, stop-the-world-from-turning love you have for Alex, but it's comfortable. And I could easily stay with her for the rest of my life. I've watched her suffer your relationship with Alex, and I can see myself moving heaven and earth to make her happy. What we'd have would never be one of the world's great love affairs, but we're friends and we could be happy together. So, whatever happens, I'm ready for it, although I'll never be ready to let her go. If I were a praying man, believe me, I would pray for that miracle."

Bobby nodded slowly. "Yeah, so would I."

"So...you're really okay with it?"

Bobby nodded. "I'm okay with it. I think that you would make her happy, and that's all I ever wanted for her."

"I get that. She sure deserves it. At least now, with a marriage between us, the baby's future is secure. She can put me on the birth certificate and no one will question his legitimacy."

"And if he is a she?"

"Then I'll have a matching set."

Bobby sighed. "Are you sure about this, Mike?"

"I'm positive, buddy. And, although part of me is doing this for you, most of me is doing it for her."

"For me?"

Mike clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, you. Now you won't have to worry and wonder about the kid. You can be involved in his life the way I am with your kids. That's what you and Denise both want, and you'll have it now. Truth be told, I'd worry and wonder, too. So as long as Alex can come to terms with it, it's win-win for everyone involved."

"This isn't a puppy, Mike. It's a life-long commitment."

"I know. Just between you and me...I surprised the hell out of myself when I realized how much I love being Sean's father, but I've gotta share him with his mother, and sometimes, I resent that, especially when she's all psycho about it. I talked to your lawyer buddy and he drew up custody papers for me. Joint custody...fifty-fifty with no one coming out on top. It's as fair as it gets. She's fighting it, and he agreed to represent me pro bono, just because she's being unreasonable and her lawyer pissed him off. I think the judge will see things our way and go for the joint deal. But no matter how it works out, I've still gotta share Sean. With Denise's kid, for the first time in my life, I'll have someone who is completely mine, and I like that. Boy or girl, this baby will be mine...and I see that as a good thing. So does Denise. She knows I'll take good care of the baby, so all she asks is that I agree to the names she's chosen and I've got no problem with that."

"What names has she chosen?"

"Piper Christine or Samuel Robert."

Bobby started when he heard his name. "She..."

He shook his head and Mike gave him a light shove. "Don't argue with her, Bobby. She's dying. Let her have this one."

Bobby shuffled where he stood and finally said, "Please don't tell Alex. That will just set her off, and I don't want to fight with her over something I have no say in."

"Deal."

Taking a deep breath, Bobby stuffed his hands in his pockets and mulled over everything Mike had just said. "It's a generous thing for you to do," he said finally.

"No one is twisting my arm. I feel good about this decision. It's right for both of us."

Bobby nodded slowly. It wouldn't be a long marriage but it was a bond that Mike would carry to his grave. "You should stay for Harry's party."

"And deal with your wife shooting daggers at me all afternoon?"

"I'll talk to her. Do it for Harry, Mike. He's still fragile and this could go a long way toward making him more comfortable with you. I've got no good way of explaining it to him if you aren't here."

Mike was quiet for a long time. Finally, he shoved his keys back in his pocket. "Okay, I'll stay. For Harry's sake."

"Thanks."

"Talk to your wife, and remind her that she has no say in _my_ life. I have no obligation to her."

"Forgive me if I don't put it in those words. I don't particularly want to sleep on the porch."

Mike grinned. "I thought she couldn't kick you out of your bed."

"She can't, but I can choose not to sleep there, and if I set her off enough, the porch is where I would be most comfortable."

"I'll just stay out here for a little while and give you a chance to have it out with her."

Taking a deep breath, Bobby let it out slowly as he walked toward the house and tried to work out in his head what he was going to say to his wife. It took no effort at all for him to imagine her response and it was not a happy picture.

* * *

When he returned to the living room, Bobby was surprised to find Alex wrapping presents as though nothing had happened. Confused, he stopped and watched her quietly.

"Is he staying?" she asked after a few minutes of protracted silence.

"Uh...yeah, he's staying."

"Good. Harry doesn't need any more disappointment from the people he loves and I don't need another reason to be mad at Mike."

"Are you? Mad at Mike, I mean?"

"I was initially. But then I asked myself why, and really, I have no reason at all to be angry. Sometimes, I see him as an extension of you, and that's not fair. He has every right in the world to marry Denise if he wants, although why he refuses to marry Carolyn..."

"Please, don't go there. That is entirely between Mike and Carolyn. Whatever it was, it didn't work out. She's moved on and now, so is he."

He knew from the tension in her back that she was still irritated, and he knew that he still had to watch what he said. Setting the last present on the small pile beside her, Alex cleaned up the paper and took the scissors and tape into the kitchen. When she came back out, she stopped and looked at him. "How involved were you in all this?"

"I wasn't. They sat down with me and told me about it last week, after the decision had been made. Neither of them consulted me before that."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be? Alex, I have no say in either of their lives. They are consenting adults and if they want to have a relationship, I have no right to get upset over it."

She motioned at the couch and sat down. He hesitated but then sat beside her. She slipped her hand into his. "Cut through all the bullshit, Goren, and be honest with me."

"I am being honest. I admit they surprised me, but I got over it quickly. I can't see anything bad coming out of it. If I had to choose a partner for either of them, I could do a lot worse than choosing them for each other."

She searched his face and saw that he was being totally honest with her. She leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his mouth, surprising him. "Well, if you can be okay with it, then what choice do I have?"

"You can't help how you feel."

"But my first thought was that you were hiding things from me again."

He shook his head. "No. But it wasn't something I could just blurt out. I was waiting for the right time, and that certainly wasn't when we were dealing with losing your dad."

"Fair enough. I'm sorry I got upset."

"Was it because Denise is involved?"

She started to deny it, but he was trying to remain honest with her. The least she could do was return the effort. "Yes," she admitted. "I'm still...very sensitive about her. But it's her and Mike, and not you. I try not to get upset with Mike, but you guys are so close I don't have much experience dealing with the two of you on separate terms."

He smiled. "That's fair, I guess."

She shifted closer. "Besides, I really don't want to be upset with you on your birthday, especially over something that really doesn't involve you."

"Thank you," he whispered as he leaned closer.

She met him halfway and allowed him the chance to hold her and explore her mouth at leisure. She buried her fingers in his hair and surrendered to his embrace.


	14. Grief

The house was full of people, and they were all there for Harry. The little boy was thrilled and happy and overwhelmed. This was a party, a celebration with cake and presents and happy laughter, and it was all for him. Everyone in the house was celebrating his life and their happiness that they were privileged to share it with him. They'd had cake and he'd opened presents and everyone was enjoying the day.

All the cousins were in the backyard playing ball with some of the adults. The aunts were in the kitchen with Mommy, making more punch and little sandwiches that were just right for small hands. The uncles who weren't playing with the kids were grilling hotdogs and hamburgers with Uncle Mike. Zeus was in the middle of the ball game, chasing whoever happened to have the ball. When one of the smaller kids had it, the puppy gently tackled them with a happy bark, grabbed the ball and ran off to play keep away. After leading the children on a merry chase, he released the ball to Maggie and the game commenced.

Harry took a break from the game, stopping at the playpen on the porch where Aaron and Kevin were taking turns playing with Molly and Sean. He played with them for a little while before he continued into the house. Stopping by the kitchen, he got a cup of punch from his mother and he took a little sandwich which he carried to the couch. Climbing up onto the couch, he sat there, legs dangling, and drank his punch as he munched on his sandwich.

Bobby came into the room and stopped to watch the little boy for a few minutes. Continuing to the couch, he sat beside Harry. According to Dr. Bennett, Harry was quickly settling into the family as if he'd been born to them. Likewise, according to his pediatrician, with regular meals and proper nutrition, he was now growing along a normal growth curve. He might never catch up to reach his full growth potential, but there would be no way to know if he did. Regardless, the health concerns he'd been facing due to his malnutrition and neglect were rapidly fading without coming to fruition. Healthy of body and sound of mind, Harry was sliding into the role of a normal boy, one who was happy and cherished.

Taking another bite of his sandwich, Harry looked up at the man who was now his father, not by some quirk of biology or lapse in judgment, but by choice. He'd been brought into this life by Maggie and he was allowed to stay because he was the luckiest boy in the whole world. His nightmares that he was going to be sent away, back to that empty, cold apartment, for some perceived wrong he'd done, were rare now. Now he dreamed about playing ball and running in the park and other things that little boys are supposed to dream. He was now beginning to think about what he wanted to be when he grew up—a police officer like his parents or a firefighter like his uncle or a soldier or an astronaut or a cowboy. In his life before this one, he simply dreamed of growing up, of surviving his nightmare life to become a man. He never knew what the world had to offer as he scurried about like a little mouse, looking for food and trying to avoid getting cuffed by his father. He came from a world of pain and hunger and darkness into a life of happiness and plenty and light. Thanks to Maggie, he knew what it was to love and be loved.

Bobby reached out and lightly ruffled the little boy's hair. Only rarely did Harry ever cringe away from him any more, and he didn't now, allowing the contact, welcoming it even. "What are you eating?" Bobby asked.

Harry looked at the sandwich curiously. "Uh, a sammich."

He offered it to Bobby, who looked at it and handed it back. "Chicken salad," he said.

Harry smiled. "Mommy even put apples in it!"

Apples were Harry's favorite fruit. Bobby smiled warmly. "That's because Mommy knows how much you like apples, and they go well in chicken salad."

"Apples are good with eve'ything."

"Tell you what...apple season is coming up. When the apples are ripe, would you like to go to one of the orchards and pick some apples yourself?"

Harry's eyes got wide. "We can do that?"

"We sure can. And then I can teach you to make applesauce and we can make apple pie and apple cobbler."

The boy's eyes lit up and he wriggled with excitement. "When can we go?" he asked, trying to contain his excitement.

"Next month, once the apples are ripe."

"Has Maggie ever been apple pickin'?"

"I took her when she was little. She had a lot of fun."

Harry finished his sandwich and Bobby handed him his punch. After swallowing the last of it, he slid off the couch. "I can tell Maggie and Tommy, can't I?"

"Of course."

Glowing with excitement, Harry ran out of the house, calling for his sister and brother. Alex came in from the kitchen. "What's that all about?"

"I told him I'd take him apple picking."

She laughed. "I can't think of anything he'd love more."

"I thought he might like it."

She sat beside him and smoothed her hand over his hair. "How are you doing?"

In all honesty, he wasn't doing so well. He wasn't really up to dealing with a house full of people. Although he loved the extended family, two family gatherings in a week was a lot for him to take. He was used to the busy life that came with having four children, a puppy, a cat and a large spider, but adding four more families into the mix was a bit more than he could handle at the moment. Unable to explain himself, he just shrugged. "I don't know. This gathering seems...incomplete."

"Without Dad?"

He nodded, looking at his hands. She leaned forward to look at his face. He averted his eyes, but not before she saw the sorrow in them. On a good day, Bobby didn't cope well with loss and change. The past eight months had dealt him more than one serious blow and he was still reeling under the weight of it all. His mother's death and the accident he'd gotten into immediately following it left him floundering for months. He'd rallied some after Harry joined their family and he took on the undercover assignment to get Martin Gomez. The pursuit of Gomez gave him a purpose that his life had lost when he was unable to work. After that, Deakins retired, the timing of which she still questioned, and Ross had further upset the balance of Bobby's life by ending their partnership. As much as she sometimes resented Mike Logan for his special place of prominence in Bobby's life, Alex was simultaneously grateful for Mike's closeness to her husband. Ross' willingness to partner Bobby and Mike, while not the best decision for the captain's mental health, saved Bobby from another nearly endless string of partners who wouldn't work out. Along with that huge change in his work life came Denise's pregnancy and fatal diagnosis and then John's death. She wasn't sure he could take any more, and she hoped that fate was done trampling him and kicking him when he was down.

Gently, she touched his chin. When he didn't make any move to pull away from her, she guided his face toward hers as she moved in to press her lips lightly against his. His hand touched hers as she increased the pressure against his mouth. Raising his other hand, he slid his fingers into her hair as he turned toward her. She pressed her body against his and he folded his arm around her, teasing her mouth with the tip of his tongue. She sensed a desperation in him that was often there of late and she relaxed in his embrace, allowing his tongue entry to tangle with hers. He made a soft noise, reassured by her acceptance of his advances, despite the crowd of people just outside the room. She responded to his quiet moan.

"Hey, hey, hey..." came a scolding voice from across the room. "Keep it rated 'G'. There are children around."

Alex pulled back and gave her teasing sister a playful scowl. Bobby leaned over and gently kissed her cheek. "I...need a break," he said into her ear. "I'll be back."

"Where are you going?"

"I, uhm, I just need...to be alone, for a little while."

She hesitated, but then nodded. "Be careful, will you?"

"I'll be fine." He gave her a soft kiss and whispered, "I love you."

She watched him cross the room and leave the house. Reggie sat beside her. "Was it something I said? I was just kidding..."

Alex reached out and touched her sister's arm. "No, it wasn't you. He's having a hard time, and a houseful of people is a bit much for him right now. He'll be back later."

"Are you okay?" Reggie asked.

Alex nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay. I just...worry about him. He's had a lot to deal with lately, and Dad's death hit him hard. In some ways, I think it hit him harder than it did us."

"How can you say that, Alex? Losing Dad was devastating for us."

"I know that, and I'm not trying to minimize our grief. But think about it for a minute, Reggie. Bobby never had a father who loved him and valued him as a person until Dad. Even before I married him, Dad was always good to him, always fatherly. Dad loved him as a son before he became his son. You have no idea how important Dad was to him. We always had Dad, and we have a lifetime of good memories to sustain us. Bobby doesn't have that, and now he never will. He was less prepared to lose Dad than we were."

Reggie thought about her sister's observations. "Is there anything we can do?"

Slowly, Alex shook her head. "No. I can give him love and support, but this is something he has to work through himself. I wish there was more I could do for him."

After a moment, Reggie got to her feet. "Come on, Alex. Let's watch the kids for a little while. That always cheers you up."

With a sad smile, Alex hugged her sister and they went outside to watch the little kids play with the adult ones.

* * *

The hot sun beat down on the quiet cemetery as Bobby approached the new grave. No headstone had been set yet, but it had been ordered. The freshly turned dirt had settled and grass seed had been planted seven feet above the casket that had been laid beneath it six days earlier.

His emotions were spinning at the edge of his control, and grief was beating its way to the surface. Six days since they'd buried his father-in-law and he had yet to deal with his loss. Alex had managed to work her way through it, although she would always miss her father. He had buried his grief as deeply as it would go so he could be there for his family. He could not do both because he knew his grief would overwhelm him. John Eames had been like a father to him, more than any other man in his life, and his death left a huge emptiness that he instinctively knew would never be filled.

He dropped to his knees beside the new grave, his chin on his chest. The throbbing pain in his injured knee offered a distraction he welcomed, but as the pain subsided, grief swept in to take its place, unwanted and unwelcome, but very strongly there nevertheless. He closed his eyes and finally, his grief washed over him.

* * *

The sun was low in the western sky when he surfaced from the depths of his grief, a grief that was not just for John, but for his mother, too. Although she'd been gone for eight months, he had been able to put off dealing with his loss until now. Everything hit him at once—his mother, his father-in-law, Denise's illness and imminent death—and he was drained, physically and emotionally. But he had one more visit to make.

Slowly, he walked the half-mile across the cemetery to his mother's grave. Standing in the summer twilight, he bowed his head and whispered, "I'm sorry, Ma. I should have been a better son, but I did the best I could. I know I disappointed you, and I'm sorry."

A gentle breeze ruffled his sweaty hair as he stood there with his head bowed, his eyes closed. The world around him faded and he lost himself to his memories. By the time he drew himself from the past, it was dark, and he was alone among the headstones, or so he thought. As he began to walk away from his mother's grave, someone called his name.

Turning, he was surprised to see his brother standing several feet away from where their mother was buried. He had not seen Frank since he showed up at the Eames' home after their mother's funeral. That visit had not gone well, not at all. He was surprised that his brother had called to him, considering he had threatened to kill Frank the last time he saw him. But he had no energy left to expend on his brother at the moment. He took the time to study his older brother, who he'd looked up to when they were boys, but he had no emotion left over for him now.

Frank studied his little brother in turn, and he felt a powerful surge of pride for the man he had become. He had a family who adored him, a career of which he could be proud. The terrified child who had cowered in the shadow of their mother's illness and their father's abuse and had desperately needed his big brother's love and protection had grown up to become a real hero, one who saved others' lives at the risk of sacrificing his own. But Bobby looked tired, beaten by circumstances Frank could not imagine. Quietly, he asked, "How's your little girl, Bobby?"

"She's fine," Bobby answered.

"She's a spirited little thing, isn't she?"

"She's...a lot like her mother," Bobby said, his tone guarded. "She thought she was...protecting me."

Frank laughed, a quiet, amused sound. "She sounds like her father, trying to save the world. She sure took me out."

Bobby smiled. "She did, and you deserved it."

"Yeah, I did. I shouldn't have showed up like that...but I...it was the only way I could make it through her funeral. I'm sorry, Bobby. I'm not as strong as you are."

"I'm not strong, Frank. I...I cope by not dealing with my feelings. It's a coward's way out."

Frank shook his head. "You're not a coward, little brother. You took care of Mom all these years and it couldn't have been easy. You're raising a family and you have a career you can be proud of. You deal with life without hiding in a cloud of drugs. I'm proud of you."

Bobby looked at the grave that separated them. "Don't waste your pride. I have my own vices that help me get through the challenges of my life."

Frank approached him slowly. "Can we talk? I swear I'm sober. I felt I owed Mom that much, to be sober when I come to say hi."

Too worn out to give any effort to thought, Bobby nodded. The brothers left the cemetery together.


	15. Brother to Brother

The brothers sat on adjacent bar stools in a bar near Frank's apartment. Bobby pulled out his phone as Frank ordered their drinks. He could hear the relief in Alex's voice when she answered. "Bobby. Where are you?"

"In Brooklyn. I, uhm, I stopped to see your dad and my mom."

Alex felt the bottom fall out of her stomach. "You shouldn't have gone there alone."

"It's something I needed to do, and I had to do it on my own. I had...apologies to make, and promises...and I had to...to say..." He stopped before the last word, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. He continued, his voice soft and a little strangled. "I had to say...good-bye."

Her heart fluttered at the tone of his voice. "Are you okay?" she asked gently.

"I'm okay," he assured her, hoping that saying would make it so. "I, uh, I ran into Frank. We have some talking to do."

She was silent, not knowing what to think about Frank's sudden reappearance. Every time he turned up in Bobby's life, there was trouble. She wrestled with herself, not liking the fact that he was with Frank. She knew instinctively that Bobby was vulnerable at the moment, and that Frank was the last person he needed to be with, but there was nothing she could do."Are you going to be home tonight?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level.

He paused, not sure about her tone. He couldn't tell if she was upset or not, but he didn't want to lie to her. "I don't know."

She fought hard to keep from sounding upset. "Let me know, okay? And...be careful."

"Alex..." he whispered, closing his eyes. She was upset. He heard it in the way she held her tone; he knew the sound of her trying to hide it from him. "Do you...Do you want me to come home now?"

She did, but he needed to see his brother, and she understood that. She didn't like Frank, but he was all that Bobby had left. She was troubled by the vulnerability she sensed in him, knowing that Frank would exploit that. But what could she do, except trust her husband? "No. Talk to your brother. Just be careful, please."

"I will."

He slid the phone back into his pocket as the bartender placed a scotch in front of him. Frank smiled. "Happy birthday, Bobby."

Caught off-guard, Bobby frowned. "You remembered?"

"Yeah, I remembered. I also remember that you prefer scotch to gin." Frank raised his glass. "To the good times."

Bobby made the toast with him but his brow was still furrowed. He didn't like upsetting his wife. Maybe he'd just give Frank one drink, then he would go home. Frank grasped his shoulder and squeezed. "You and me, we had some good times, didn't we, Bobby?"

"Yeah, Frank. We had some really good times. I liked hanging out with you when we were kids. You were my big brother, and I looked up to you."

"You-You did?"

"Yeah, I did. A lot. But...things happened, and...we changed."

"When, and how, did we grow apart?"

Bobby looked into his half-full glass. "I don't know exactly. I guess, once I realized that drugs meant more to you than I did, that you were...lost to me. Looking back, I guess it's not a surprise, but it still hurt. A lot."

"What do you mean, it wasn't a surprise?"

Continuing to look down at his drink, Bobby answered, "Looking back at my life...well, it always happens. The people who mean the most to me always...leave. Somewhere along the way, I become incidental, an afterthought."

"You weren't...an afterthought, Bobby. It's just...It...Drugs...they got the better of me."

"Only because you let them."

"Okay, maybe I did, but you weren't a little kid any more. You could take care of yourself—and do a better job of it than I did. You didn't need me any more."

"Why did you think that?"

"Look at me. Look at the mess I made of my life. Look at what happened to Mom. You were the responsible one. You knew how to take care of things. I only knew how to take care of myself, and that took all of my time and energy. I didn't have anything left over for anyone else. Not Ma, not you, not anyone."

"But...you were the one she wanted, Frank. Every time she looked at me, she saw the absence of you. I took care of her, and she resented me for it. She spent the last twenty years of her life telling me that you would have taken better care of her, that I wasn't good enough because I wasn't you. That's...well, it's the story of my life. I'm just never quite good enough."

Frank studied him and he felt a strong surge of regret. He remembered, in the far distant past, the happy little guy his brother had been. Then, their mother had gotten sick, and everything had changed. He'd tried to shelter Bobby when he was little, but sometimes, there was nothing he could do. That happy little guy had grown up damaged, and he wondered how much of that damage was his fault. "I'm sorry, Bobby. I really am."

Bobby felt a surge of anger. "Sorry? Just what are you sorry for?"

Frank cringed a little at his brother's tone. "For hurting you. For not being there when you needed me. For letting you down, over and over again. For all of it."

Bobby finished his drink and, with it, swallowed his anger. He waved a hand and shook his head. "It's all in the past now. It's over and there's no way to change it. Forget it."

But Frank couldn't forget. He owned part of what Bobby had become through his failure to protect him when they were young and through his greater failure of becoming lost to his brother in the world of his addictions. If he pushed it, though, and tried to make Bobby admit something he didn't want to admit, their discussion would deteriorate, and Frank didn't want that.

Neither, apparently, did Bobby. He set down his empty glass, got to his feet and said, "I'd better go..."

Frank didn't want to end their visit on a negative note, and he closed his hand around his brother's arm. "Please, stay for another drink. Just one more."

Bobby looked at him but didn't sit down. Frank ordered him another drink and gave his arm a gentle tug. "Come on. Tell me about them."

_Them_...Bobby felt a surge of anxiety at the pronoun that conjured so many dark memories for him. "About who?" he asked cautiously.

"_Them_," Frank said with more enthusiasm. "Your family. That pretty little wife of yours...how long did she say you've been married? Two years?"

Slowly, Bobby lowered himself back onto the bar stool and took the drink the bartender set near his elbow. He nodded. "Three years, next month."

"And how old are the kids again?"

"Maggie is six, Harry turned six last week, Tommy is 2 and Molly is 8 months."

Frank looked confused. "Your wife said you had three kids. Was she pregnant when I met her?"

"No. We, uhm, we adopted Harry. It will be final next month."

"I would say he's a very lucky little guy."

"What makes you say that, Frank? You don't know me any more."

"Don't be so sure, Bobby. I might have been high, but I remember that little storm trooper of yours wiping me out with her little crutch because she thought her daddy was in trouble."

Bobby couldn't suppress a little smile of pride. "Maggie," he murmured softly, his voice tender as he said her name. "I have a special relationship with her. I always have. If nothing else in my life lasts, I hope that does."

"How did she break her leg?"

Bobby's smile faded. "Uhm, Maggie...Maggie was with me, when Mom died. I was in an accident that night, and that was how she broke her leg, in that car accident."

"Were you drinking?"

"What? No! Not with her along...and I don't...I don't drive when I'm wasted, Frank. I have more sense than that. And I don't...I _don't_...not when I'm responsible for my children."

"Okay, sorry..." Frank paused, then asked, "What will it take for me to meet your kids?"

Bobby hesitated, picturing Alex's face if Frank ever turned up on their doorstep again. What would it take? Finally, he answered, "My wife's approval."

"And how likely is it that I'll get that?"

Bobby shrugged. "That depends on you. So far, you haven't given her much reason to like you. As long as you're using, don't count on it. _I_ won't let you around them if you're using."

"Suppose I'm stone cold sober when I meet them?"

Bobby was quiet for a long time, finishing off his drink and ordering a third. "They'll like you, Frank. I know they will. And when you break promises to them, and don't come around for months at a time, and let them down over and over again..." He shook his head. "I've been there. I had to deal with it when you did that to Mom. You are not going to do that to my children. I won't let you."

"If I promise..."

Bobby cut him off. "Promises don't mean anything to you. How often have you kept your word to me, Frank? I can count on one hand how often that happened." He shook his head. "I won't put my kids through that. You couldn't get clean for me or for Mom. I know you won't get clean, and stay clean, for nieces and nephews you've never met. It's my job to protect them, and I take that job very seriously. I will not let them be around a junkie, uncle or not. Alex's criteria will be even more strict. If your life remains unchanged, the closest you're going to get to my kids is looking at their pictures as you sit on a barroom stool."

Frank was unhappy about Bobby's decision, but part of him couldn't blame his brother for wanting to protect his family. After all, he was right. He had never proven himself dependable. Bobby, however, was rock solid, and Frank admired that about him. Bobby lived a life that could have been his, once. But his chance had passed and he'd let that life slip away forever. He motioned to the bartender again.

* * *

Alex was worried about her husband. When he went out drinking with Mike, she didn't mind. Sometimes they got themselves into trouble, but they always watched out for each other. The two men were close, and neither was inclined to let any harm befall the other. But Frank—she did not trust Frank, with good reason. Every time he turned up in his brother's life, trouble followed for Bobby. She tried not to think about what Frank was up to this time, but she couldn't help being concerned. Part of her wanted to call Mike and ask him to retrieve her wayward husband, but she decided against it. Mike had left with Sean to go to Denise's and she didn't want to interrupt what time he could spend with her. Worry kept her up late, easing toward an anger that she repeatedly chased away. Finally, she went to bed, convinced that Bobby would not be coming home that night. Sleep was a long time in coming, and when it finally claimed her, troubled dreams came with it.


	16. Talk to Me

**A/N: Apologies for not getting this posted sooner, but real life reared its ugly head. My mother died last week.**

* * *

Alex didn't particularly want to be alone, but she did not expect Bobby home before midday. She knew he was struggling and she was trying to give him his space, but she wanted so much to pull him close and hold on for dear life...and she needed him to hold her as well. Resigned to the fact that he wasn't going to be there for her until much later, she'd slid into the big, empty bed and tried to embrace her loneliness.

A couple of hours passed before she rolled over during her restless sleep and found herself up against his warm body. "Bobby," she whispered, relieved and delighted to find him snoring softly beside her in the bed, where he belonged.

The barest hint of his cologne reached her nostrils, masked by other scents she recognized: cigarette smoke, scotch and...the sweet, pungent odor of pot. She frowned. "What did you do?" she whispered.

With a grunt, he shifted closer to her, sensing that she was awake. He softly murmured her name. Sliding his hand along her side, he nuzzled her neck and pulled her close. She stroked his hair. "I thought you were staying at your brother's place," she said softly.

He slid his hand down to her hip and squeezed. "I wanted to come home," he insisted.

Peeking over his shoulder, she looked at the time. 3:17. "When did you get here?"

"I dunno."

"_How_ did you get here?" she asked, hoping he didn't drive himself.

He kissed her neck. "With Mike."

"Mike? Did you call him?"

"I don't think so. He, uh, he called me, I think."

She pulled away, just a little, concerned by his confusion. "Why?"

"Ask him."

He moved closer and returned his attention to her neck. "Bobby," she protested in a loud whisper. "Talk to me."

"Love you," he murmured against her skin. "Love you so much."

His hands had begun to roam and so had his mouth. "Bobby..." she whispered more softly.

He stopped listening, focusing all his attention on her body and what he was doing to her. She closed her eyes and made an involuntary noise before she tried one more weak protest that didn't work. She made the noise again seconds before she surrendered to him. She no longer cared why he was home; she was simply happy that he was.

* * *

Bobby's head rested on his wife's chest as they both slept. He stirred first. As he lifted his head with a soft groan, she lightly caressed his back. "Good morning," she whispered with a smile.

He gave her a lop-sided grin. "Hi."

"How do you feel?"

He shifted and softly kissed her. "I feel pretty good."

"I imagine you do. You were pretty wasted when I talked to you about..." She looked at the clock. "...two hours ago."

He stroked her bare shoulder. "I, uh, yeah...I was..."

"And you still are. I smell cigarettes, scotch and pot. Am I missing anything?"

"Uhm...n-no. Frank waited until I left before he brought out his coke."

"If he hadn't waited...would you have...?"

She stopped, not sure she wanted an answer any more. He caressed her shoulder and answered, "I...no, I don't do that any more."

"But you did."

"In the past, yes. But not since I left narcotics."

She looked at his face in the dim light of the room. "How much did you use...in the past?" she wanted to know.

"That depends on _when_ we're talking about. I, uh, when I was a kid, I did a lot of things that I would never do now. I think most people can say that." He paused and gave her a look, eyebrows raised. With a soft smile, she nodded and he continued, "Things were very different back then, after mom got sick. I needed an escape, something that made me feel...good, for a change. I had few options, and Frank had ready access to anything I wanted. He, uh, he started smoking pot when he was around twelve, and he advanced to harder drugs by the time he was a sophomore in high school. I was a little younger, ten or eleven, the first time I got high with him. I, uhm, I moved on to harder drugs earlier than he did, but I wasn't the heavy user that he was...and I stopped. He never did."

She could understand that. Many teenagers experimented out of curiosity, but for him, it was more than experimentation. She didn't know a lot about his young life, except that it had been very difficult, and the fact that he sought to escape through drugs did not surprise her at all. "What made you stop?" she asked, honestly curious.

"During Christmas break of my senior year, Frank came home from college. While he was home, he overdosed. My mother blamed me for it, of course, but it scared the shit out of me. I quit using after that. I still smoked pot, but I never did the hard drugs again...until I worked narcotics. Frank went back to using, but he was more careful."

"And when you were in narcotics?"

"Again, ready access, but only when I had to. Sometimes, in order to protect my cover, or another officer, I didn't have any choice. Sometimes, I didn't look too hard for alternatives. It...came with the job."

He was willing to talk, and she was reluctant to let the moment pass without taking advantage of it. "What about now?"

His hands had begun to lightly explore her body as he talked. He caressed her ear, playing with her earlobe as his fingers stroked her neck. She tipped her head to the side but still tried to press him for an answer. "Bobby?"

He grunted softly as he moved his fingers along her collarbone. He leaned in, replacing his fingertips with warm, moist pressure from his mouth. That always drove her nuts, and now was no exception. She wanted to talk, but her mind began to get fuzzy as a roaming hand slid down the back of her thigh. "Oh, no...don't..." she began to protest as his fingers found the back of her knee. "You...oh..."

She was finished. Talking became the furthest thing from her mind. She responded to him, surrendering to the need he created in her.

* * *

She snuggled against him as she waited for her body to calm down. Softly, she growled, "Will you cut that out now?"

"What?"

"Dammit, Bobby, I want you to talk to me."

He played with her hair. "About what?"

"I want to know what happened yesterday."

He continued to play with her hair, absently caressing her back between strokes. "Yesterday...I, uhm, I...I got ambushed. That's what happened."

His tone was laced with anger, and she knew she would have to tread carefully. "By Frank?"

He paused, but her warm hand lightly rubbing his chest calmed him. He was still willing to talk to her. "N-No. By...By my grief. It caught up with me and I didn't expect it, so it-it overwhelmed me. Your dad, my mom, Denise...everything. I...I lost control, then I shut down, completely, and that's when...uh, then, Frank was there, at the cemetery. We...stopped for a couple of drinks—he actually remembered my birthday—and then it became more than a couple, and we went back to his place, and it became...more than drinks. We talked about you and the kids, about our past, our parents, and how things worked out for us. I, uhm, I told him how lucky I am to have a wife who puts up with my bullshit and always finds it in herself to forgive me."

"Is that what you really think?"

He looked at her, surprised. "Why would I lie about that, to Frank of all people? Alex, I am very lucky that you're even in my life. But you're my wife, and that makes me the luckiest man in the world."

"It's not luck, Bobby. You've earned my love several times over."

He cocked his head to the side, his expression open and interested. "How?"

She saw in his eyes that he honestly didn't get it. From a young age, he'd been taught that he was insignificant, unworthy of his parents' love—or anyone else's—and he still struggled with that. She shifted her position and snuggled into his embrace. Once she was comfortable, she took his hand in hers and rested her head against his chest. "Oh, Bobby," she whispered, wanting him to feel cherished because he was. "There are so many reasons that I love you."

He gently played with her fingers. "Name one," he challenged.

"Only one?"

"Let's start there."

"Okay...you are a very loving man."

"Name another."

"You're a great father, a wonderful husband."

"And?"

"And you're sweet and kind. You're sensitive and strong and adorable. And you're great in bed."

He arched an eyebrow, his lips quirked into a small smile. "Really?"

"Really. There is so much more to love than not."

"So...no regrets?"

"About choosing to be with you? No. None."

"Even though we're not partners any more?"

"That doesn't matter. We're partners in a much more important way. We're partners in life, for life. I go to bed every night and wake up every morning cradled in your arms and in your love. That's huge. I love you and I need you."

He shook his head slowly. "You don't need me."

"What makes you say that?"

He kissed her head. "There's still a part of me that believes you would be better off without me. I count myself lucky for every day you keep me around."

She rubbed his stomach lightly. "I never considered sending you away," she insisted. "You frustrate me sometimes, and you make me angry, but I love you."

"So what were you planning when you talked about moving in with your dad?"

She would never again make the mistake of not knowing where Maggie was when she had any kind of serious discussion. "It was a wake-up call, honey," she insisted. "I promise that's all it ever was. I never wanted to leave and I certainly had no desire to stay away, but I had no way to reach you. You withdrew so far away from me, I couldn't find you."

She was right about that. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to ever do that again."

"I can only promise to try. Alex, I don't want to draw you in to...to the dark places that are inside me. I never want you touched by that. That's why I withdraw."

"It's all part of you, and I swore to love you—the good side of you _and_ the bad. I know that you go to some dark places, and I accept that about you. You don't have to protect me from that side of you."

"That side of me is very angry and very dangerous. I _do_ have to protect you from it. Trust me."

"That's the point. I do trust you. Bobby, I can't take it when you withdraw from me."

He kissed her again. "I'll try. That's the best I can do."

With a smile, she turned her face up toward his and kissed him. He laughed softly. "There's that look of triumph I always see when you get your way."

"Every victory with you is a hard-won battle." She hugged him tightly. "Now...I need you to tell me about last night."

She felt him tense. "Uh, what about it?"

"Were you surprised to see Frank?" she asked, knowing to start slow and go easy, to be gentle and keep her anger at bay if she wanted answers from him.

"Uh, yeah, I was. I had no reason to suspect he would be there."

"Did anything come of the visit?"

"Well, he, uh, he wants to meet the kids."

She fell silent, surprised. The idea of Frank anywhere near her kids was unnerving. "What did you tell him?"

"That he had a lot of work to do if he wanted to earn a chance to meet my children."

She nodded her approval. "Good. So...what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're not just drunk, Bobby. Tell me what led to...the rest of it."

He was uncomfortable, but she wasn't angry. She seemed honestly curious about what was going on with him, about what he was thinking and what had gone through his head when he was with his brother. But there was no simple explanation. Everything was rooted in the past. He shifted his hips and drew his arms more tightly around her. To his relief, she snuggled more closely into his embrace, resting her head on his chest. He remained quiet, gently stroking her hair, until she pulled back and looked at him. "Talk to me, please. I need to know...how I've failed you..."

His eyebrows arched. "Failed me? Alex, you've never failed me."

"Then why...?" she stopped and swallowed the lump that was in her throat.

"Why what?"

She took a deep breath, steadying herself and reinforcing her composure. "Face it, Bobby. You've been drinking a lot lately, and now, smoking pot with your brother...I just need to know why...why you couldn't come to me."

He read the hurt in her eyes and he touched her cheek. "Alex, this had nothing to do with you. It's not because of anything you could or couldn't do for me. It had more to do with...the patterns of my life and falling back on very old coping mechanisms that are deeply ingrained. I...I have never viewed you as a coping device."

"You were there for me when I needed you. Why wouldn't you let me be there for you?"

That was not easy for him to explain. "It isn't as simple as that. Everything in my life has a function; every person has a role to play. I hit a point where I was confronted by my grief, and no one was there because I didn't _want_ anyone there. That was why I was able to face it. It was something I had to do on my own. Frank showed up at just the right time, not because I needed anyone, but because I was able to detach. I used him as a tool to feel better. That's something I could never do with someone I care about."

"So Frank helped you to feel better?"

"No, but what I did when I was with him did. There was no real emotion tied in with my visit with Frank. He was just there, and I wasn't alone. He had no opinion. He just drank and smoked and listened. That's not something you or even Mike could have done. You would have tried to tell me what I needed instead of letting me decide. My brother made a couple of offers—he filled the ones I accepted and let the others go. I did what I wanted—what I needed—to do, and he let me."

"And you came home because...?"

"Because I wanted to be with you. I could have stayed at Frank's but I didn't want to. I wanted to be where I belonged, which is right here, with you. Was I wrong?"

She sensed the tension in him as he asked that, and she lightly stroked the arm he had wrapped around her waist. "Of course not." He relaxed again. "This is exactly where you belong. I just...I didn't expect you to come home, especially like this."

"Would you prefer I leave until I'm sober?"

"No. You're here; stay here. I just...answer me this. What does it do for you, Bobby?"

"It? What do you mean?"

She felt a window of opportunity she might not have again any time soon. He was relaxed and open and willing to talk in a way she had never seen him before. She reached up and kissed him softly, then she snuggled into his arms, letting him know she was just as comfortable as he was. "I just...I would like to know what you get from the drinking and smoking that you can't find anywhere else."

She had settled back against his chest, willing to listen without staring him down. Normally, his defenses would have skyrocketed, but he was comfortable and sleepy and willing to let her get closer than she ever had before. He nuzzled her hair as his hands gently stroked her warm skin. Softly, he explained, "I never learned how to cope with life, so I just did the best I could as I went along. After you...After you married Ricky, I couldn't cope, so I drank. A lot. A lot more than I do now. I sought escape through alcohol and sex and I was out of control, I know I was, until Maggie was born. She helped me to...settle down, to get a handle on life again. I stopped drinking so much, and I settled mainly into a monogamous relationship with Denise, to protect the baby. I...survived."

"You stopped drinking for awhile, for the most part. So what happened? Something drove you back to the bottle."

"It's complicated. I don't handle loss well, or failure, either, for that matter. Losing my mother and then your father...that was a lot for me. I lost my job, for a long while, and my agility. I was in pain, all the time. And then...Denise's illness...her...pregnancy and, and the ramifications of it...and losing you as my partner. Add that to all the changes—Maggie starting school and buying a house and getting a new son and a major shift in dynamics at work...it's a lot for me to deal with, and I haven't been coping well. The only time I can forget about it, for a little while, anyway, is when I drink. It's the only time I can relax and, well, pretend life doesn't have me by the balls in a vice grip that keeps getting tighter and tighter before it starts to twist."

Alex tended to focus on the positive, and, while she knew that change was difficult for Bobby, she had failed to realize that even positive changes were difficult for him. She understood a little better what drove him. "And the pot? That's a new thing. Why did that enter the mix?"

He paused, caressing her shoulder and her arm, sliding his fingers onto her stomach and up to her breasts. He kissed her temple. "It's not, really," he admitted as he nuzzled the side of her head and smelled her hair.

"Not what really?"

"Something new. I, uhm, I hadn't smoked it for awhile, and I kind of forgot...what it does for me...until I, uhm, lost my judgment one night a couple of years ago—before you left Ricky—and accepted a smoke...to calm me...and it did. It's not a bad thing, Alex."

"It will be if it gets you fired."

"I won't get fired."

"You don't know that."

"I do, actually. Don't ask me for details, please. Just trust that I'm right."

Alex was quiet for a few minutes before it dawned on her. "Denise..." she whispered.

He kissed her ear, exhaling softly as he lightly nipped her earlobe. "Complicated," he whispered, nipping her again, then working his way lightly along the curve of her neck. "But worth it."

"What makes you say that? Tell me what makes it worth the risk."

"No risk," he murmured, pausing to gently suck where the curve of her neck met her shoulder. "I promise."

She trembled as he continued to work her neck and his hands began their own sensual exploration. "Bobby," she murmured, breathless, as she tried to maintain focus. "Answer me. What does it do that makes it worth it?"

"It calms me," he answered without stopping. "It makes the world a brighter place, and it makes me...more carefree, kind of giddy and...and horny as hell. It has a positive impact on how I see my life. Tell me that's bad."

Goosebumps shivered up and down her spine and it felt wonderful. She couldn't find fault with something that led him to do what he was doing. She shifted against him, encouraging him to continue, and she made an unintelligible noise that he seemed to understand.

His mind disengaged as he focused on her, his body reacting strongly to her noises and her movements. He softly murmured, "And it helps take away the pain..."

His words didn't register immediately as she twisted to face him, to kiss him, to love him...and she let him conquer her again.

* * *

As she lay in his arms while the rising sun brightened the room, she dozed lightly, and words floated lazily through her head..._it helps take away the pain_... Her heart lurched and she was fully awake, the sweet, languid restfulness gone. "Bobby, what pain?"

"Hmm?"

"You said it helps take away the pain."

"Uh-huh. The drinking does some, and the smoking does more..."

"What pain? In your knee?"

"Some of it, but more in my chest."

Her heart skipped a beat. "In your chest? Pain in your chest? Since when?"

He'd begun to doze off and she poked him. "Bobby, answer me. What pain in your chest?"

He shrugged as he yawned. "Sometimes my chest hurts. It's nothing new. It's something that never really went away after I got shot when Maggie was little. Sometimes, it gets bad, and I need to do...something about it."

"Have you seen a doctor?"

"Al..."

"Have you?" she demanded, and he knew she wasn't going to drop it.

"Yes," he whispered. "I've been seeing a doctor."

"Does he know about your extracurricular pain control?"

"Yes, he does."

"And?"

"And he hasn't discouraged it. He doesn't want me taking narcotics all the time. This way, I only need them sometimes."

"Is it that bad? Why haven't you said anything?"

"Because you've got enough to deal with. I didn't want you worrying about nothing."

"Nothing? _Nothing_? Goren, you were shot in the chest and it damaged your heart! I'm your wife now and if anything interferes with your health, _anything_, I have a right to know about it. You can't keep something like this from me!"

"Look how upset you are," he said softly, his voice full of remorse. "Alex, I'm okay. The doctor is keeping an eye on it. There's nothing to worry about right now."

She struggled to contain her emotions because she didn't want to upset him. "What about in the future?"

"Who knows?"

"Dammit, Bobby! What did he say?"

He sighed softly. "There's a chance that it could be a problem somewhere down the line, but right now, it's not. He wants me to quit smoking, and I told him I'd try. But the pot...he said, using it occasionally may be doing me some good."

Lifting her head, she rolled over so she could look at his face. His expression changed and he was immediately sorry that he'd told her. She saw the remorse flash in his eyes and she gave him a kiss. "Don't be sorry," she whispered, pleased that he didn't try to hide it. She kissed him again. "I wouldn't get upset if I didn't love you, okay?"

He brushed her hair back off her face. "Okay," he answered. "But I don't want you to worry. Please. If it ever becomes a real problem, I promise I'll tell you. Right now, it's not serious."

"Can I talk to the doctor?"

He hesitated, but only briefly. "I have an appointment in a couple of weeks. You can go with me."

That satisfied her. She folded her arms on his chest and rested her chin on them, looking intently at his face. He looked back, curious. "What?" he asked, his mouth curved into a small smile, his eyes once again sleepy.

"I think this is the most open and honest you have ever been with me."

"You weren't mad. I tend to pull away and stop talking when you're mad."

"You realize that only makes me angrier, right?"

"I know, but you get less angry when I stop talking than I think you would if I kept going."

"That didn't happen tonight, did it?"

He shook his head. "No, it didn't."

"Give me a chance, Bobby. I can't promise not to get angry, but I want you to talk to me."

He stroked her hair, then gave it a playful tug. "I, uh, I wasn't thinking when I came home. I normally would have showered before coming to bed, so you wouldn't, uh, find out...what I'd been doing. I'd have expected you to get...really upset."

"And I don't blame you. I really would have."

"But you...you didn't. Why?"

She stroked his chest. "Circumstances. I'm so happy that you've opened up to me and talked to me about something more important than the weather that I'd have accepted anything you told me without getting mad, just so you would keep talking."

"So...later on, once you've had a chance to process it all, you won't lock me in the backyard?"

She laughed softly. "No. I promise."

He yawned again and asked, "So...I'm okay? I mean, you won't get mad at me the next time I come home...wasted?"

"It's not going to be a daily event, is it?"

"It hasn't been. It's very occasional. I have no plans to increase the frequency any time soon. If I have to, I will tell you."

"Okay. And you'll let me know how your pain is?"

He hesitated. "Al..."

Her eyes flashed angrily, but she suppressed it. "Don't protect me, Goren," she warned. "I swear, if you do, _you_ are going to be the one needing protection."

His face relaxed and he softly laughed. "Okay, Alex. Have it your way. I promise."

"Does Mike know any of this?"

"Some of it."

"Your chest pain?"

"No. No one knows. I don't want anyone thinking they have to handle me with kid gloves. I don't need protecting. If you get mad at me, then let's have it out. I..." He paused, reluctant to continue.

"You what? Don't stop now."

"I...I don't want things to change. I want to fight with you..."

She sat up slowly and stared at him. "You like fighting with me?"

"Uh, n-no...not exactly."

"Then what?"

"I, uh, I like the...the passion in you, Alex. I like the fire in your eyes. But...well, if we don't fight...we can't make up. That's what I _really_ like."

His eyes were bright with desire and she laughed. "Look at you. You're something else, do you know that?"

"Are you saying you don't like it?"

"No, not at all. I love making up with you."

"Okay, then. The fighting is necessary for the making up to happen. I don't want to give up either of them."

"Has it occurred to you that we actually could skip the fight and go right for the bed?"

"Of course it has, and I even tried it, but it's not the same. The passion is...different. It's not as...hot. There's not as much fire. I want the fire."

"You always run the risk of getting burned when there's fire, you know."

Leaning forward, he kissed her. "I'll take that chance."

She smiled. "You're something else, do you know that?"

"I do. And I assume that's one of those reasons you mentioned before for loving me."

She nodded. "It very much is. Very much."

She looked at the time and stretched herself out along his body. "You probably have about forty minutes before that door opens and one of the children pops in looking for breakfast. What do you think you can get done in forty minutes?"

His eyes were bright with passion. "Let's find out," he murmured.

Alex's estimate was off, but not by much. Fifty-two minutes later, when the door opened following a little knock and Maggie poked her curly head in the door to tell her parents it was time for breakfast, Alex was ready to get up and Bobby was sound asleep.


	17. Deeper Connections

Tommy gripped the tennis ball in his left hand, drew back and let the ball fly across the backyard with Zeus in hot pursuit. Sitting in the grass near Tommy, Sean clapped his hands and giggled happily. When the puppy returned the ball, Tom handed it to Sean. "Now you frow," he said.

Sean drew his arm back to throw, but when his arm came forward to launch the ball, it slipped from his grip and bounced behind him. Zeus charged around him and grabbed the ball, and both boys laughed.

Mike sat nearby, watching the little guys, and he looked up when the sliding door opened and Bobby came out onto the porch. He studied his friend intently before he nodded. "At least today, you have the sense to look hung over."

Bobby sat beside him on the top step of the deck and scratched his head, folding his arms around his little son when the toddler charged at him for a hug. "Where's Alex?" he asked.

"She went to get pizza for dinner. Harry and the girls went with her."

"Dinner? What time is it?"

"Just after four."

"Really? Hmpf. I...uh, I didn't...Really?"

"Very eloquent." He watched Tom scurry back to Sean and hand the baby the tennis ball. "Would you care to explain why you weren't on the couch this morning and why your wife hasn't been storming around the house slamming things?"

"Why would she? Was she mad?"

"No. Not at all. And that's what I don't understand."

"What do you mean?"

"Buddy, I was the one who brought you home last night, remember? You were all kinds of messed up. Is she blaming Frank for it?"

"Uhm, no. We...talked about it. We talked about a lot, actually. We're good."

"Really? She didn't go postal on you?"

He shook his head. "No. She actually handled, uh, well, _me_, pretty well. She, uhm, she understands."

"She does? Then maybe she can explain it to me because I don't."

"What don't you understand?"

"Why she's not gunning for your brother and sticking you in the backyard to sleep."

"Frank isn't responsible for my decisions. And...I have my reasons...for the things I do."

"Care to share with the class?"

Bobby picked up a stick and turned it over in his hands. "You know most of my issues, Mike. Everything kind of caught up with me yesterday. I...I don't cope well with loss. You know that. Losing my mother was difficult for me, and then John...but...I don't know how I'm going to handle losing Denise. And it won't be long."

"I know, man. I know."

Bobby flicked his fingernail over the end of the stick. "Can I ask you an honest question?"

"Always."

"Why are you marrying her? I mean, I know you've always cared about her, but in all the years we've been friends, I never sensed any jealousy from you. I never saw any passion or desire from you for anyone but Carolyn."

"Well, first of all, I don't have the same deeply passionate nature you do. I don't think I've ever fallen for a woman as hard as you fell for Alex and Denise. I don't wear my heart on my sleeve. Yeah, I've always liked Denise, and as I got to know her better, I just liked her more. I always loved her for the way she dealt with you. She's a very special woman. My affection for her has been growing until I turned around one day and realized that I do love her. A lot of people may frown on me for marrying a dying woman, but this is something we both want. And it's the simplest way, and the most certain way, for me to take the baby. No courts involved. The baby's mine because she was my wife."

"That's a big responsibility, Mike."

"I know. Hey, I had to grow up sometime, huh?"

"Are you really sure...about the baby?"

Watching Sean, Mike nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. Denise has been worried about who would end up with her baby. It wasn't something she was willing to put on you. She knew you'd take the kid in a heartbeat if she asked you, but you already have a tribe to support and she knows that she's not your wife's most favorite person. She asked me if I had any ideas, and the best one we could come up with was me. Ain't that a kick in the pants?"

Bobby laughed, then winced and rubbed his temple. "The baby will be lucky to have you as a dad," he said.

"I never thought anyone would ever say that about _me_."

Bobby focused his attention on his stick as he peeled off the outer bark. "Bottom line, Mike. Are you doing it because you love her?"

"Bottom line? Yeah. This is for her and for me, too. I don't want to let her down. I've done that to too many people. And I'm doing it for you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. You. I know how you feel about her better than anyone else does. Probably even better than you do. I know you'll sleep better at night knowing her baby is happy and well cared for—and with someone you know. It's something I can do and something I want to do. So it's a win-win situation for everyone. The only way it could possibly turn out better for the kid would be if Denise lived."

"Would you still marry her if she wasn't dying?"

"Yeah, I would. I don't want her to die, Bobby, but I can't do anything to keep her here. Neither of us can."

Mike reached out and touched the stick. Bobby looked up at him, his expression somber. Quietly, he said, "She's a good woman. She never deserved me, not with all the crap I put her through. I'm glad she has you."

"She'll never look at it that way and neither will I. For what it's worth, she loves you. She always has. And she understood that you could never love her back the same way. She accepted that and never tried to change it."

"Maybe things would have turned out differently if she had."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But she doesn't regret it. Do you?"

"No, except that I hurt her."

Mike shook his head. "No, buddy. _You_ didn't ever hurt her. It was all circumstance. Things just didn't work out a certain way, but that's life. And it doesn't change the love in her heart, or in yours."

Bobby was quiet, once more turning over the now-naked stick in his hands. Zeus trotted up to him and placed his mouth around the stick, his tail wagging as he looked up at Bobby expectantly. With a smile, Bobby released his hold on the stick and the puppy took off with it. Mike nudged him. "So, you wanna tell me what happened yesterday?"

Bobby shrugged. "I got overwhelmed by all of it. So much change, Mike."

Mike knew better than almost anyone that Bobby did not cope with change well. "Yeah, I know. How does Frank figure into it?"

"He doesn't, really. He just happened to show up at my mother's grave and he remembered that it was my birthday. He bought me a drink or twelve and then we went back to his place."

"What'd he give you while you were there?"

"Not much. A couple of joints, a couple of beers and two packs of cigarettes. I still have a pack and a little more."

"Why the pot?"

"It's nothing new."

"Since when?"

Bobby sighed. "I guess it's been about six months. Sometime after my first knee surgery in March. They found an arrhythmia during the surgery, so I...I've been seeing a cardiologist since then, about every two to three months."

Mike frowned. "Why?"

"I haven't been good to my body; you know that. The damage that was done to my heart when I was shot back when Maggie was a baby is catching up to me. I'm trying to quit smoking, but my life isn't making it easy. The pot...well, it's a once-in-a-while thing. It was his suggestion, actually."

"Does Alex know, about your heart?"

"She does now. It's nothing to worry about yet, and he's keeping an eye on it."

Mike was quiet for a while, watching Tommy play with Sean and Zeus. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Mike, I, uh, I didn't tell _anyone_. I didn't want anyone to worry. The damage is done and there's no undoing it. All we can do is try to slow down the progression of it."

"And she didn't kick your ass for not telling her sooner?"

"No. At least, she hasn't yet."

"Bobby...level with me. Alex—is she going to be a young widow again?"

"Well, she's younger than me..."

"Dammit, you know what I mean."

"If you're asking if she's going to outlive me...yeah. She is."

"How long?"

"There's no way to know. It could be six months or six years. It could be more, or less. They don't know."

Mike became very quiet as he digested everything Bobby had just told him. Bobby watched him. "Mike?" he said softly. "Talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking."

Mike slowly shook his head. "Man...I...As hard as it is losing Denise...I can't..." He stopped to refocus himself. "I can't even imagine how fucking hard it would be to lose you. Alex...the kids...and-and me...What are they doing for you?"

"Everything they can. I don't know what to tell you, Mike."

"Just...tell me you're not checking out any time soon."

Bobby shrugged. "I...I'm doing everything the doctor tells me to do. I don't know if it's too late to change things by taking care of myself now, but I'm gonna try. I'll do everything I can. That's the best I can promise."

Mike knew that he couldn't ask for more, but he sure wanted to. As ridiculous as it sounded, he wanted Bobby to promise him he wasn't going to die. Instead, he bit his lip and looked out at the two little boys playing with the puppy a few feet away. "The kids," he whispered, trying not to sound choked up. "Maggie..."

"I know," Bobby answered. "Believe me, I know."

Mike finally looked at him, his eyes moist. "Promise me you're doing everything you can to make it right?"

Bobby understood only too well how his death would affect the ones who loved him. "I promise."

Mike extended his hand, Bobby took it in his and they shook on it.

* * *

It was a very small ceremony, held in chambers of Judge Ida Boucher, who had long been one of Mike's favorite judges. She had been both surprised and delighted when Mike approached her, asking if she would perform the ceremony for them and explaining the urgency of it. Her heart went out to him. She was delighted that he had finally found love and saddened that he was going to lose her too soon. Pleased that he had chosen to come to her, she readily agreed to his request and to the date for which he asked.

Now they stood before her with her clerk standing by with Bobby as witnesses. Bobby had offered to ask Alex to join them, knowing she would have agreed because of the circumstances, but Mike had declined, not wanting Denise to feel any apprehension during the only marriage ceremony she would ever have. Although Denise liked Alex, she knew well that Alex held no love for her. Bobby's wife had spent too many years battling jealousy over the decades-long relationship Denise had with Bobby. It was difficult for her to get past that. Mike felt it best not to draw together two women who had no particular fondness for each other at a ceremony of which one did not approve. It would be too uncomfortable for everyone and he was not going to put Denise through that.

Denise's strength was failing rapidly, and it took an enormous effort for her to venture out to the courthouse, but she refused to be confined to her bed for one of the happiest moments of her life. So she traveled to Manhattan and, flanked by the two men she loved most in the world, she agreed to love, honor and obey one of them for the rest of her life. She had already proven her abiding love for the other, and they knew that would last as well.

Each man held her gently by the elbow, supporting her weight between them. By the time Judge Boucher secured the union and offered her congratulations and best wishes, Denise had no strength left. Mike kissed her tenderly, thanked the judge and carried his wife to the car. Bobby went with them to the vehicle and leaned in to give Denise a gentle kiss. "Be gentle with him," he said with a smile and a wink.

She found the strength to laugh and returned his smile. Gently, she laid a cool hand on his cheek. "Thank you," she said softly.

"For what?"

"Just for being you."

He arched an eyebrow and her smile widened. He laid his hand on her enlarged belly, smiling when the baby kicked him. Then he pulled out of the car and stepped back. Mike gave him a questioning look. "Not coming back with us?"

Bobby absently rubbed his chest. "Uh, no. I have, uhm, something to do."

"Everything okay?"

He nodded. "It's just...uh, one of those things."

Mike met his eyes, and he understood. "Call me if you need a ride or something."

Bobby nodded as he watched Mike get into the car and drive away. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his top button and walked off down the street.


	18. A Right to Know

Bobby unlocked the front door and entered the dark house. A single light in the living room shone a welcome for him as his family slept. He closed the door and headed for the kitchen, planning to take his medicine and head upstairs to his wife. He was tense with need and his body ached for her.

After the ceremony, he had gone to see his cardiologist because of an uncomfortable pressure in his chest. He'd left the office in a bad mood with a prescription in hand, worried that Alex was going to be upset with him.

_You need to learn to relax, detective, to let go of the things that bother you. You need to reduce the stress in your life. _Reduce his stress? Didn't the man realize that it was stress that cemented his life together and if he took it away, everything would crumble?

After calling Alex to let her know he was going to be in late and not to wait up, he stopped by Denise's apartment to talk to Mike. Denise was sleeping, as he suspected she would be, and he'd spent most of the evening talking to his best friend about the future and his concerns that he didn't have much of one left. Although he had no feasible suggestions for how to reduce Bobby's stress level, Mike had done a lot to restore his belief in modern medicine, and Bobby had gotten his prescription filled. Then he'd stopped in at his favorite Brooklyn bar for a few drinks which helped to ease the discomfort in his chest. A few drinks became more than he intended and he'd taken a cab home.

He stepped into the living room and stopped when he saw that he was not alone. Kneeling at the coffee table with her back to him was Maggie, diligently working in a puzzle book he had gotten for her.

She heard him come into the room and lifted her pencil from the page on which she was working. She twisted at the waist, looking up and fixing him with a penetrating gaze. He stopped by the couch and returned her look, his face soft. She continued to look at him, her expression revealing nothing as her nimble mind processed everything about him from the flush on his face to the unsteady sway of his body as he stood there. "Why didn' you drive your car home, Daddy?"

He cocked his head to the left a little. "How do you know I didn't drive home?"

"When you come home, your car lights shine inna window. I didn' know you was home until I heard you onna porch. Where's your car?"

He smiled at her simple logic. "I left it at Denise's. I can get it tomorrow. What are you doing up so late?"

"I woke up but you wasn't in your bed so I got my puzzle book and I comed down here to wait for you."

"You shouldn't do that, Maggie," he replied as he came around the couch and sat down near her. "It's very late. You should have gone back to sleep."

"But I wasn' tired."

"Maggie..."

"I know, Daddy. School starts soon and I gotta get all my sleep."

With another smile, he nodded. "That's right."

She closed her book and set her pencil on top of it. Then she stood up and climbed into his lap. She rubbed her palm over his cheek. "Are you okay, Daddy?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don' know. That's why I asked."

He gently kissed her forehead. "I'm fine, mouse."

"Promise?"

"Yes. Promise. I even saw the doctor today, and he said I'm doing okay."

That seemed to satisfy her and she leaned against his chest with a yawn. He pressed his lips against her head and said, "Listen to me, Maggie."

She turned her pretty little face up to look at him. "Okay, Daddy."

He smoothed her hair back as she looked at him with curiosity in dark eyes that were so similar to his. "You don't need to worry about me, baby. I'm okay and I'm going to continue being okay. Nothing is going to take me away from you." He gave her nose a playful poke. "Not ever. No matter where I am, no matter what happens, I will always be part of you."

Maggie thought about that, and Bobby smiled as he watched the concentration on her little face. He wondered what she was going to come up with. She was smart and unpredictable and she challenged him often, which was something he deeply appreciated. Very few people challenged him.

Maggie reached out and laid her hand on his chest. "You're al'ays in my heart," she said. "So that means I am al'ays in your heart, too, doesn' it?"

"Absolutely. You're in my heart and in my thoughts."

Her brow furrowed. "But...what happens when you gotta think about somethin' else?"

"You're still in there. My mind is always busy, and you're always there."

"Mommy, too? An' Tommy an' Harry an' Molly an'..."

He laughed. "Yes, yes...The family is always on my mind. Why don't I tuck you back in bed?"

She slid from his lap. "Okay, Daddy."

"Wait here."

He went into the kitchen and took down a glass which he filled with water. He grabbed his prescription bottle from the refrigerator and pulled the new one out of his pocket. He swallowed a pill from each bottle and put them both up on the refrigerator. Finishing the water, he set the glass in the sink and turned around. Maggie stood in the doorway, watching him. "You got more med'cine? Are you sick?"

"No, I'm not sick."

"But that's why you take med'cine, because you're sick."

"Sometimes people take medicine to keep them from getting sick."

"Is that why you got more?"

He nodded. "Yes. Now come on. Let's get you back to bed."

She sensed that he didn't want to talk about it, and she didn't want to upset him, so she didn't press the matter. Tucking her hand into his, she went upstairs with him. He tucked her into bed and kissed her good night.

* * *

Alex was sleeping lightly, waking easily when he came into the room. Relieved, she opened her eyes and watched him undress in the glow of the light that filtered in through the window. She couldn't tell his mood by watching him, but she could tell he'd been drinking. She wondered if it was celebration or depression that had driven him to the bottle.

He slid into the bed and turned toward her, intending to hold her while he tried to sleep. He was fairly well keyed up and he knew sleep would be elusive, despite the alcohol he'd consumed. He couldn't help being disappointed that she was sleeping because he wanted her badly, but it was a lot later than he realized when he finally got home. Unlike himself, Alex was generally able to quiet her mind and sleep peacefully through the night.

He rested his arm across her abdomen and his mind slid toward dark thoughts to calm his body, though they would do little to calm his mind and help him sleep. He shifted against her, restless and uncomfortable, and she turned into him, surprising him. "D-Did I wake you?" he murmured, even as he pressed a kiss against her temple.

She shook her head. "I couldn't sleep with you not here."

"Why?"

She stretched her body and tipped her chin up so she could nuzzle his ear. "I missed you," she whispered.

He smiled and sought her mouth, kissing her as his hands began to roam over her soft skin. She responded to his ministrations, and his caresses quickly became more urgent and heated. She encouraged him to continue, and he happily obliged.

* * *

She rested her head on his chest, listening to his pounding heart return to its normal steady rhythm. She stroked his chest, smiling at his soft hum of pleasure. As always, she felt warmth and reassurance from his desire. Drowsy and comfortable, she softly asked, "How was the ceremony?"

"It was nice. It took a lot out of her, though." He bit his lower lip, wondering what she really wanted to discuss. If she needed a segue, it couldn't be good.

"Have you been there this whole time?"

There it was. "Uh, no."

She waited. Even though he had called to tell her he would be late, she wanted to know where he had been. His call had spared him her wrath, but not her curiosity.

He stroked her hair and kissed her temple. "I, uhm, this afternoon, I went to see Dr. Bergman."

"You didn't tell me you had an appointment."

"I didn't."

"So why did you go to see him?"

"I wasn't feeling well. My chest felt...tight. He fit me in."

She swallowed a moment of panic. Busy cardiologists didn't just fit in patients on a whim. "What did he say it was?"

"Stress. I'm supposed to reduce the stress in my life, but I don't know any way to do that. There isn't much in my control that I can change. And I'm not ready to retire."

He was right. Retirement would kill him faster than the job would, even with the kids to keep him busy. He wasn't the type of man who would thrive in retirement. And there wasn't anything anyone could do for Denise. The family, she hoped, was a saving grace for him, but there wasn't a lot he could do about the rest of his life. He was trying to eat better and quit smoking, but it would be bad for him to make a lot of huge changes all at once. And the doctors couldn't fix the damage that bullet had done four years ago, which was why he was in trouble now. She still felt guilty that he had been shot protecting her, but she had come to terms with the fact that protecting her was something he would always do...whether she wanted him to or not.

Something else drove her guilt, though. Rarely did Alex go behind his back to do anything. She preferred to be direct and open. It just wasn't in her nature to be duplicitous. She didn't know what to make of his visit to see his cardiologist that day. Coincidence, she decided. It had to be simple coincidence.

She'd been busy all day with a new case, one that was proving to be the kind of difficult, convoluted case on which Bobby thrived. Albright didn't have the same kind of brilliance that made Bobby such a natural and he had to work for every lead, but he was determined and dedicated—and he learned quickly. When she told him she was stepping out for lunch, he immediately asked her if Bobby was okay. Maybe he learned too quickly.

After assuring her partner that her husband was fine, she drove to see Milton Bergman, his cardiologist. She realized that she must have left the office shortly before he got there. It was pure luck on her part that they had missed each other. It took a great deal of cajoling and, ultimately, some badge wielding to get the receptionist to ask Bergman if he had a few moments to spare for her. He carved out the time to see her from his busy schedule and, finally, let her talk him into discussing Bobby's health. She had spent the rest of the afternoon lost in a fog caused by the information she'd gotten from the doctor. The last part of their conversation, the part that took place after she asked him point blank about Bobby's heart, replayed itself in her mind as though it had been recorded, haunting her.

_As you already know, his heart was damaged in that shooting four years ago. That's not something that gets better with time. The fact that he doesn't take proper care of himself is simply an aside. He already has two strikes against him. The fact that he has come this far along without a major cardiac event is nothing short of remarkable. He is, in effect, a walking time bomb. It's only a matter of time and there is nothing that can be done to change that._

_Will he..._ She had been unable to complete her thought, but he'd read it as though he could see into her mind.

_Will he die? Of course he will. Will it be his heart? Who knows? He's a cop. Every day he's out on the street is a day he could take another bullet. Barring outside influences, such as another bullet or the blade of a knife, he may have a few more years before this injury catches up with him. How many? I have know way to know. Five? Ten? That sounds feasible. Twenty? Not likely._

_What about the pain he's been experiencing?_

_That was why he started seeing me recently. It's just the beginning. He isn't going to improve after this. The damage is taking its toll._

She lightly stroked his chest, deeply unsettled by the talk she'd had with Bergman. "Why are you so late coming home?"

"I...have a lot on my mind," he answered. "I guess I lost track of time."

She snuggled closer to him and he kissed her head. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You seem...agitated."

She was quiet for a few minutes before she finally confessed. "I went to see Dr. Bergman when I took my lunch today."

Bobby's entire demeanor changed. Slowly, he sat up and leaned back against the headboard. "Why would you do that?"

"Because you have this habit of keeping things from me."

"You should have asked me..."

"I have asked you, Bobby, and you won't level with me."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't want you to know?"

"That you're going to die? I have a right to know that."

"Everyone dies, Alex. I could take a bullet tomorrow."

"But that's not likely. You don't have to step in front of a bullet to protect your partner any more. He can take care of himself."

"What?"

"You heard me. You took that bullet protecting me and ultimately, that's going to be what kills you. It's going to take you before your time, before I'm ready to let you go."

Her voice had risen in pitch and tone, and she hated that she wasn't in control of her emotions any longer. She hated crying in front of him—or anyone.

He was still angry, but he drew her into his arms and held her. "You shouldn't have..." he began.

"I wouldn't have if you would talk to me and be honest," she said as she struggled to control herself.

"He doesn't know..."

"Yes, he does," she countered, tired of being patronized. "That bullet damaged your heart, and it's going to kill you. He knows that, and so do you. He can't say when it will happen, but it _will_ happen. And it will be a lot sooner than any of us are ready. Do you honestly think you're going to live to see Maggie graduate from high school?"

Although he still held her, his body was now tense. He knew the answer; they both did. When he offered no argument, she lost her temper. "You were just going to spring this on me?" she accused. "Just let me deal with it when it happens with no time to prepare?"

He still didn't answer and she climbed out of the bed, turning to face him, her face taut with rage. "You were, weren't you?"

"How...How do you prepare for something like that?" he replied defensively.

"How could you even consider keeping it from me?"

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The truth was he had been keeping it from her for a long time. "He had no right..." he began, trying to shift the focus to Bergman.

"No, Bobby. He did the right thing because I have every right to know."

She had him. He agreed—she did have a right to know, and he'd been a coward when faced with the issue of his mortality. He had never been afraid to die and he wasn't now, but he had shirked his responsibility to her. He was still protecting her—this time from the truth.

But he was angry that she was forcing this on him. He felt trapped, and he resented her for it. He pulled on a pair of sweat pants. "Where are you going?" she demanded.

His mind buzzed with the replies he could give, but ultimately, he chose the least inflammatory of his choices. "Downstairs."

He moved past her and left the room. She made no move to stop him.

Alex sat on the edge of the bed and cried, her anguish fueled more by frustration than anything else. A light knock sounded at the door, forcing her tears away as she wiped at her eyes. "What is it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

The door opened and Maggie came into the room. She'd heard her parents' angry voices from her room and she'd poked her head out of her door after her father went downstairs. Looking first toward the stairs, then toward the closed bedroom door, she decided to see her mother first. When she heard a stray muffled sob from behind the door, she knew she'd made the right decision and she knocked.

Entering the room, Maggie crossed to the bed and climbed up beside her mother. She sat there and made a little 'huff' sound. Alex looked at her. She knew that Maggie had heard the argument, so there was no point pretending it hadn't happened. Maggie crossed her arms and her expression became grim. "Why do you and Daddy fight?" she asked.

Naturally, she had to start with a question whose answer was about as complicated as it got. "Ask your father," she answered, knowing it was a cop out.

"Why? Don' you know the answer?"

Alex almost laughed. Her beautiful, precocious little girl wasn't going to let her get away with anything. "It's complicated," she answered.

"Can' you esplain it?"

"Not easily, no."

So Maggie decided to help her by asking more specific questions. "Do you love Daddy?"

She couldn't get more basic than that. "Of course I love him."

Maggie nodded. She'd known the answer to that one. "How much?"

"Very much."

"As big as the ocean?"

"Bigger."

"As big as the ocean and the sky?"

"Bigger."

Maggie giggled a little. "Me, too," she agreed.

Alex hugged her, her anger gone. Maggie climbed into her mother's lap and put her arms around her neck. "It's easy, isn' it, Mommy?"

"Loving Daddy? Yes. It's very easy."

"And it's hard, too, huh?"

"Sometimes, yes. It's very hard."

"So which is bigger—easy or hard?"

"I don't know, honey. Sometimes they're both kind of the same."

Maggie thought for a minute, trying to formulate her next question. "If you love him easy and hard, why do you gotta fight so much?"

"It's not something we have to do and it's not something we can _not_ do." She paused, trying to figure out how to explain passion to a six-year-old. "Sometimes the things we feel just...bubble over and we have to...debate about it, and sometimes it just gets away from us. We both feel very deeply and sometimes we just don't see things the same way."

"Like how Daddy loves D'nise and you don'?"

Of course that would have to be the example she chose. "I don't not like Denise."

"Then why do you get so mad when Daddy talks 'bout her?"

Alex looked at the clock. Three-thirty on a Tuesday morning wasn't the ideal time to be explaining anything to her little daughter. She was especially uncomfortable discussing what was wrong in her marriage with anyone, and it wasn't something with which Maggie needed to worry. "Maggie, you should be sleeping."

"I'm not sleepy. What did D'nise do wrong?"

"Not a thing. Denise has never done anything wrong."

"Then why are you so mad at her?"

"I'm not." She sighed. Maggie did not understand jealousy. There did not seem to be a jealous bone in the child's body, which was such a blessing. Perhaps she was just too young or maybe she, like Denise, would never be a jealous person. It was the latter that Alex wished for her. Jealousy was a curse. "It's not something I can explain to you, and I'm not going to try. You're a little girl and you don't need to worry about adult relationships. Daddy and I will be fine. Sometimes we argue but that doesn't mean we don't love each other. Actually, it proves we love each other very much."

Maggie frowned. "Fighting means you love someone?"

"Sometimes."

"You mus' love Uncle Mike, too, b'cause you fight with him, too."

Alex laughed. "I do love Uncle Mike, but not the same way I love Daddy. And I don't fight with him over the same things. It's very complicated, honey. Someday, when you're older, you'll understand."

"I wanna unnerstand now."

Alex shook her head. "That's not going to happen, little girl. Now I want you to go back to your room, get into bed and go back to sleep. Stop trying to think about big people problems. Don't worry about Daddy and me. We're going to be just fine. We always are."

Maggie was quiet for a minute. She hated when her parents fought and she just wanted to help make things right, if she could. She didn't understand that it wasn't something she could possibly help them resolve. In her mind, everything could be fixed. Finally, she nodded. "Okay. Good night, Mommy."

Maggie pulled the door closed and walked down the hall, past her room and down the stairs. She stopped in the family room doorway to watch her father pace back and forth, the glass in his hand almost full. She could feel the anger and agitation rolling off him. Some people had the great sense to never poke a bear, and they would have given the man a wide berth. But Maggie loved the bear too much and she stepped into the room. "Daddy?"

Everything about him changed as he turned toward the beloved little voice. The agitated grizzly morphed into a teddy bear. She watched as his tense shoulders relaxed and some of the rigidity in his back softened. He sat in his favorite chair and set down his glass as she crossed the room and climbed into his lap. "Why are you still up?" he asked.

"I heared you and Mommy fightin'."

He sighed and his shoulders slumped a little in defeat. He tightened his arms around the little girl. "It's no different than any other time, Maggie. I got mad and I'll get over it. It's nothing for you to worry about."

"I don' unnerstand, Daddy. You love Mommy, so why do you gotta fight?"

He smiled. She didn't question his heart. "I do love Mommy. And sometimes all that love becomes just too much to bear and it bubbles over. Sometimes it's good and sometimes it's not so good, but still, it's always love."

She turned her head and looked at him as though he'd grown another head. He was familiar with that look from other people and he couldn't help a small laugh. He kissed her head again, his heart filled with love for the smart and spunky child in his lap. His smarts, her mother's spunk and an aggressiveness that was pretty much all her own, Maggie was the owner of his heart. "Let's hear it," he said, giving her permission to ask the question he saw on her face.

"I thought fights was bad."

"Not always. When we argue, it's a way of working out something that just doesn't quite fit, like driving in a nail with a hammer. Now in my case, it's more like driving a square peg into a round hole with a jackhammer, but I make it fit."

"Do you think you don't b'long with Mommy?" she asked with a scowl.

"Not at all. I have belonged to her for a very long time. There's no woman in the world better for me than her. I used to think that she could do a lot better than a guy like me, but then, when she tried to find someone better suited to her, I realized that there wasn't anyone better for her than me. It took her a little longer to figure it out."

"Mommy's smart."

"Yes, she is. She's very smart. And she knows how to find out things she wants to know."

She noticed the change in his tone. "Isn' that what you and Mommy do, Daddy? You find out thin's you wanna know."

He nodded. "Yeah, that's exactly what we do. We ask the right questions to the right people."

"And that's what Mommy did," she guessed.

She reached out and ran her small hand along the longest scar on his chest, the scar that hid the injury that was at the root of his argument with Alex. Her touch was cool and light. He closed his eyes; the tender touch was soothing.

Slowly, he forced his eyes open. Maggie was watching him. "You needa rest, Daddy. It's bad for you not to get enough sleep."

He had a lifetime of not enough sleep behind him. He kissed her head. "Come on, mouse. I'll tuck you in again. Maybe Mommy and I can not wake you up again."

"Maybe you can kiss Mommy insteada yelling at her," Maggie countered with a gentle scold to her tone.

"I can probably do a better job of that if I stay downstairs and sleep on the couch."

"An' if you do that, Mommy will be the one doin' the yelling."

He gave that a little thought until they stopped outside her bedroom. "Good point," he conceded. "I have more control down the hall in my bedroom."

She tipped her head and looked up at him. "Control?" she asked.

He sighed and gently pushed open her door. "It's an illusion," he explained, realizing how little control he really had in his life.

He gently tucked her in, kissed her forehead and returned the tight hug she gave him. Then he stepped out of the room, pulled the door closed and looked down the hall to his bedroom. He took a step in that direction, hesitated, then turned and went back downstairs.


	19. Calming the Storm

When Bobby didn't come back, Alex went looking for him. She checked on Maggie, glad to find her sleeping. _Easy and hard._ Maggie certainly had a way of putting things into perspective. Alex couldn't have described her relationship with Bobby better if she'd tried. As easy as she'd always found it to love him, he sometimes made it harder than it ever had to be. She relished the challenge, though, and she wouldn't trade him for anyone in the world. Her heart and soul belonged to him and him alone.

She found him sleeping on the couch. Standing over him, she studied his sleeping face. Like a mischievous child, he looked innocent and peaceful in his sleep. As she watched him sleep, his brow furrowed, then relaxed again. Her heart clenched. He was in pain. He frowned again, and she reached out, tenderly caressing his cheek. He didn't react, so she walked around the couch and sat down in the curve of his side. He shifted and slowly opened his eyes. She was surprised he woke so readily. "You don't have to sleep down here," she said.

He wasn't one to ever sleep on the couch. He always said that his place was in his bed, with her, and it was something about which he was usually adamant. He blinked a couple of times then looked around the room. "I, uh, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"Then come back upstairs. I have to be up soon for work anyway. Then you can have the bed all to yourself."

Ross had readily granted Mike's request off for the day after he got married, and he had insisted Bobby take the day as well. The last thing he felt ready to deal with was a bored Goren, and Alex didn't blame him.

"What makes you think that's a selling point?" he asked.

"You were pretty angry."

He shrugged. "I get that way. You know that. I get over it quickly."

"Why were you so angry?"

He pushed himself up onto his elbows. "It was my right to decide when to tell you about my health. Bergman had no business taking that away from me."

"I kind of bullied him into it, but I am your wife, Bobby. I have a greater right than anyone to know what's going on with you."

"I would have told you."

"When? After you had a heart attack? Bergman told me it's a miracle you've come this far without a major cardiac event."

"See? That means I'm doing better than he thought I would."

"That doesn't change the fact that you have a damaged heart. It doesn't mean you aren't going to start suffering from it, that you haven't already."

"I don't...I don't want you to worry about me all the time, Alex. I'm still strong; I'm still on the job."

"But..."

He shook his head. "No 'buts.' I'm not fragile and I don't want you to start treating me like I am."

"What makes you think I would?"

"I know you," he said softly.

She leaned over and softly kissed him. "I promise, I won't treat you any differently. If you think I'm being too gentle with you, just tell me. As long as you're still healthy, you can trust me to keep you in your place."

She grinned and after a moment, he did, too. "Make me one more promise?" he asked.

"What is it?"

"Never stop loving me."

"Not a chance. You're stuck with me, mister. Till death do us part."

She kissed him again and he slid his arms around her. When she pulled back, she met his eyes and whispered, "Now come back upstairs and I'll prove it to you."

With a smile, he got up from the couch, slipped his hand into hers and went upstairs with her.

* * *

Maggie and Harry began school two weeks later amid a flurry of excitement and nerves. Maggie was excited; Harry was nervous to the point of vomiting. While Alex did Maggie's hair, Bobby joined Harry in his new room, which had been completed just a few days before.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked.

Harry was sitting on the bed, hugging a stuffed rhino and looking green. He shook his head. Bobby sat beside him on the bed, and Harry looked at the floor. "What's up?" Bobby asked.

The small boy shrugged. "My tummy's sick."

"Nervous about school?"

Harry shrugged again. "Maybe."

"What are you nervous about?"

He squeezed his rhino harder and kicked his legs. Bobby waited patiently. "What if they don't like me?" Harry asked, on the verge of tears.

"Why wouldn't they like you?"

"'Cause I'm me."

Bobby gave that some thought. "You know," he said. "When I was your age, I was quiet and shy, just like you."

"You were?"

"Yes. And I was afraid the other kids wouldn't like me when I started a new school."

"What happened?"

"I was all worried for nothing. I got along just fine. I met Uncle Lewis and I really liked school. And you have someone I never had when I was little."

Harry looked interested. "Who?"

"You have Maggie."

Harry's face brightened and he nodded. "I do! I has Maggie!"

Bobby laughed and began to get up, but Harry grabbed his arm. The boy scooted closer to his father and leaned in conspiratorially. "I gotta take good care-a Maggie 'cause she's my sister and my best friend. I'll always take care-a Maggie."

Bobby smiled and gave the boy a hug. Harry slid off the bed and trotted out of the room. Harry's proclamation somehow reassured him when he hadn't even known he was concerned. He rose and followed the boy downstairs to face the day.

* * *

The following Saturday, while Mike and Bobby took care of the children, Alex went to Brooklyn to have lunch with Carolyn. They went to the same Italian restaurant that Bobby used to frequent when he lived in Brooklyn, one of the first places to which he'd taken Alex after she left Waters, when they were finally able to be together. The place held a lot of good memories for her.

They made small talk until their food arrived. Alex knew that something was bothering her friend, but Carolyn didn't bring it up until they had been served. Carolyn swallowed a mouthful of pasta and gestured across the table at her lunch companion. "Did you know Mike got married?"

Alex nodded. "Of course I know. Didn't he tell you?"

"I thought he was joking around. You know, trying to make me jealous."

"By telling you he was getting married? That's not his kind of prank."

"Were you there?"

"No. The kids would have been too much in the judge's chambers."

"Bobby was there, of course. Neither of them can make a move without the other knowing."

Alex frowned and took a drink of tea. "Why are you so upset? Mike told us you were dating."

"Yes, dating. But he got married! He told me he wasn't a marrying man!"

Alex sighed softly. "That may still be true. Do you know who he married, Carolyn?"

"I have no idea. I'm not sure I want to know. Probably some blonde bimbo with breasts..."

"He married Denise," Alex cut in to prevent her friend from embarrassing herself.

Carolyn looked at her, thinking she'd misheard her. "Who?"

"Denise Rhodes."

"Bobby's Denise?"

Alex bristled at her words. She hadn't thought of Denise as Bobby's in a long time, but Carolyn spoke the truth. On some level, she would always belong to Bobby. "She's Mike's now," she said defensively.

"She's pregnant, isn't she? Does Mike know that?"

"It's kind of hard to miss. She's due in early November. But that's not all that's going on. She's also dying."

Carolyn had been out of the loop for awhile. Since returning from Arizona, she focused all her attention on Sean and didn't have a lot to do with anyone else. Alex wasn't at all surprised that Carolyn didn't know about Denise's cancer. She doubted that Mike spoke to her much except to discuss the baby. But Carolyn had just started teaching at John Jay, which would give her a new focus beyond her child. It would be good for her and, Alex hoped. Maybe it would help her to get past her bitter anger at having to stay in New York.

"Dying? What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said. After she got pregnant, she had some symptoms the doctors couldn't explain. They discovered she has cancer. Because of the pregnancy, their treatment options were limited and she refused to abort the baby. If she makes it to term, she's not going to make it much past the delivery, if she survives it."

"So why did Mike marry her? Is the baby his or Bobby's?"

Alex was beginning to see why Mike had left her. She had returned from Arizona a changed woman and she carried around a resentment for Mike that she extended to anyone associated with him. Her resentment stemmed from Mike's refusal to allow her to move to Arizona with his son, and Alex had to agree with him on that one. She had once been Carolyn's close friend, but even she had become a target for Carolyn's bitterness. Alex could certainly understand her desire to be near her family, but she had made a choice to live in New York and to have Mike's child. If she regretted that now, it was too late, but it certainly wasn't Mike's fault. She would have to get over it or risk losing everyone in the Big Apple to whom she had ever been close. Even then, she wouldn't get her way. Mike had been granted joint custody, and the court would soon issue a custody schedule. Right now, Mike had to fight for every second he got to see his son. There was no way a judge would grant her leave to move across the country with Sean. Once she left, she had no intention of sending the boy across the country to live with his father for six months out of the year. It would be a terrible mess and poor Sean would be in the middle of it all.

"The baby is her ex's. He left her when she got pregnant. You'll have to ask Mike why he married her," Alex responded, her tone cool. "That's between them."

Carolyn frowned at her reply. Alex knew the answer, she was certain, because she had no doubt that Bobby knew. After all, Mike never made a move without having Bobby in his pocket and vice versa. Their relationship was one reason she'd broken it off with Mike, or so she'd convinced herself because she wanted to believe Mike would never have left her.

"How is Bobby handling it?" she asked with malice.

Alex frowned, forcing away the jealousy that surged from deep inside her gut. She was trying very hard to rid herself of those feelings she harbored for Denise. "How do you think he's dealing with it?" she said. "It was sudden and unexpected, and he doesn't handle loss well. You know that."

"I imagine he's spending a lot of time with her now, especially with Mike in the middle of it all."

"Yes, he is," she admitted, and she felt okay with it.

"And you let him?" Carolyn criticized. "I would never let my husband spend so much time with an ex."

Alex struggled to swallow a bitter reply, but she couldn't chase away her anger. "What's happened to you, Carolyn? You never used to be such a bitch."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Where do you get off judging me? Above anything else, I trust Bobby. Denise has been his friend for twenty years and he's always been close to her. Now, she's married to his best friend—and she's dying. It would be unspeakably cruel if I gave him a hard time about seeing her when she has so little time left. I have no desire to be a controlling shrew to the man I love." She pulled out her wallet and laid thirty dollars on the table. "You know how to reach me when you're ready to apologize."

She got up and left Carolyn to ponder her words and evaluate her recent behavior. She hoped she would hear from her, because she had always enjoyed her company. She hoped that her friend was still somewhere inside the angry, resentful woman she had become.


End file.
